Author's Note: Not set chronologically. Happens before "Pineapple Tests" and "Before and After."
"Morning."
"Hullo."
"Not awake yet?" Shepard teased, nudging Joker with her foot, and the man groaned, still face-down on the galley table.
"Talk to me once I've had, like, four more of these," he grumbled, pointing weakly to the mug of coffee sitting in front of him.
Shepard chuckled, setting her plate down next to him. "Just make sure you're awake enough to fly."
Joker's only response was to groan.
"Good morning." Miranda's voice floated across the galley as she entered, uniform looking crisp as ever as she marched in. "Shepard. Joker."
"'Randa," Joker mumbled, and she raised one brow.
"Needs more coffee," Shepard explained as Joker let out another muffled noise. "Hey, Mordin."
"Morning, Shepard." The salarian seated himself on Joker's other side, setting down his own mug of coffee and flicking open a window on his display. "Need input on redundant field generator."
"Right now?" Shepard asked doubtfully, spooning cereal into her mouth. "At least wait until after breakfast. Also, coffee?"
"Decaffeinated. Don't need additional jolt," the salarian said ruefully. "Need approval before next mission," he added, but flicked the display once more, and Shepard saw it replaced by a familiar chess board. "Need time to add to armor."
"That's the shield thingy, right?" she asked, and he nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I'll come up to the tech lab later and we can talk about it. I have a few questions."
Mordin nodded absently, stirring his coffee and tapping his display; Shepard saw one of the pieces move automatically, and with some amusement, she realized he must be playing against EDI. "Who's winning?"
"Nobody, yet," EDI answered. "We were attempting to recreate the famed sixth match of Garry Kasparov versus Deep Blue from memory."
"Have advantage," Mordin noted mildly, tapping another piece into place, and EDI made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sigh.
"I may have clearer memory through digital storage, but he hasn't made a single error yet," she commented, and Shepard chuckled.
"Of course he hasn't. Kasparov versus Deep Blue, huh?"
"The first time an AI beat a human at chess."
"Have you two played regularly?" Shepard asked, interested, and Mordin shrugged.
"Never finished a game."
"Our games last too long," EDI explained. "We have yet to finish one."
"Huh." She set her spoon to the side, her cereal gone, and picked her bowl up. "Let me know who wins."
"Of course."
The crew fell into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by Shepard slurping the remaining milk in her bowl.
"Anybody want to sign up for later?" she asked, setting her bowl down, and Miranda raised an eyebrow again.
"Tell me again why engineering can't do this?" she asked suspiciously, and Shepard sighed.
"Because they don't have training with mag boots in far space, and because they have to calibrate things inside the ship while someone repairs the sensor. We've got tethers and enough materials to fix it. It's just a broken lens."
"We shouldn't be doing repairs outside of reach of a station," Miranda persisted.
"Perfectly safe," Mordin chimed in, frowning at his display. "Magnetic boots, tethers, simple repair."
"If something goes wrong, we'll be stuck with no help."
"It's a simple sensor repair, Miranda," Shepard said wearily. "I'm not going to start a several-day journey over because you want us to double back."
"If this goes wrong, I expect you to take the blame," the other woman muttered, stabbing a piece of bacon, and Shepard groaned.
"If it goes wrong, I will," she replied.
"Joker? Please notify when decelerating to less than 2000 kilometers per hour," Mordin added, flicking a chess piece forward, and smiling as EDI responded nearly instantly. "Have sensitive experiment that needs safeguarding."
"I won't be," Joker muttered, raising his head enough that he could cram a sip of coffee into his mouth. "All the momentum is equalized, we'll be fine."
Mordin's movements froze, and his eyes flicked to the pilot warily. "Cannot advise," he said warningly. "If deceleration required - "
"We're in the middle of space," Joker scoffed, finally raising his head off the table, wincing. "We won't have to decelerate for squat. We did way more complicated repairs while moving in the old Normandy."
EDI paused, too. "I have to agree with Professor Solus," she stated. "Protocol states - "
"Protocol, schmotocol," Joker mumbled, waving a hand. "Shepard, tell 'em."
Shepard, however, was frowning, too. "What happens if we have to decelerate?"
"Crew member could be flung from ship," Mordin said neutrally. "Tether broken - or, at very least, equipment and body both damaged."
"Slow the ship down, Joker," Shepard advised, and the pilot groaned again.
"Why? We're just going to waste fuel, and we'll need everything we've got until we get to the next station. We're still two days out."
"How much fuel do you need?" Shepard asked, and Joker leaned back, counting on his fingers.
"Uh - maybe fifty percent of what's left. But - "
"Decelerate before the repairs," Shepard told him, and he glared.
"Who's the pilot? I am," he grumbled. "We're just wasting fuel! We've never had something happen - "
"And we're in the Terminus Systems and there could be some nasty vorcha fellow waiting to eat our eyeballs an hour out, for all we know," Shepard said patiently. "I'm not risking a crew member getting thrown off the hull during repairs. Decelerate."
"Agree. Unnecessary risk," Mordin said, flicking another chess piece.
"Just decelerate," Miranda said briskly, gathering up her empty plate and standing.
"Oh, sure, just gang up on the guy trying to be efficient," Joker snapped. "I say fifty percent, but - "
"Risk running out of fuel?" Mordin asked curiously, and Joker made a gesture as if to strangle something.
"No, but - "
"Do not see problem, then."
"Of course you wouldn't, everything is freaking math and science for you, no art to anything - "
Mordin's eyes narrowed, and Shepard grimaced. "Oh dear," she said.
" - and if you can't reduce it down to a mathematical equation then it's pointless, isn't it," Joker continued. "I can tell, okay? Wasting fuel is gonna be a pointless idea anyway."
"Art?"
Joker rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, you can sing. Big deal."
"Art to piloting, in comparison?" Mordin inquired, his voice notably cool, leaning one elbow on the table, and Shepard winced, grabbing her bowl and standing, eager to avoid the ensuing argument.
"Yeah, not like you'd ever really get that, because you're probably one of those fuckers who thinks piloting could be done by a fancy-schmancy program," Joker snapped, and Mordin sat back, tapping his fingers together.
"Of course. No art to science. No particular skill set. Pure logic."
Joker either didn't sense the sarcasm or ignored it. "I'm the best pilot for this ship, doc, we've all got our strengths. Piloting takes a knack, you've got to feel the ship."
"Don't see relevance to deceleration," Mordin noted.
"Because it's unnecessary! And it's a useless risk to deplete that much fuel by decelerating and then accelerating again! And it's going to delay us! You know how long it'll take us to get to the next station slowing down to near-nothing just to swap out a sensor lens?"
"EDI?" Mordin asked lightly, then huffed as his display flashed red.
"I have already voiced my opinion," the AI stated haughtily, and Joker threw a hand up.
"You all just don't appreciate good skill," he said darkly and let his hand fall back to the table, then began shoving his coffee cup across the table from one hand to the other.
"I do feel obligated to remind you that protocol states that during extravehicular activities, we slow to a pace of - " EDI began, but Joker thumped his hand on the table, and the coffee cup slid to collide with Mordin's with a clink.
"Careful," Mordin said automatically, and Joker glared.
"I'm not gonna break a hand slapping the table," he hissed. "And I know, EDI, but - "
"No buts. Should not be willing to risk safety of crew. Decelerate," Mordin said, and turned his attention back to the display. "Or will inform EVA crew of your decision."
Joker stared at him for a moment, then made an irritated noise and clumsily stood. "You all just don't appreciate my work," he snapped. "Fine. Since I can tell I'm just going to get ganged up on by the cheerleader, a frog, and my own damn ship, fine. But when it turns out to be a huge waste of time and fuel, I'll be telling you all I told you so." He fumbled for his coffee, grabbed the mug, and marched off.
"Could have gone worse," Mordin said mildly, and EDI flashed the screen red again.
"I'll tell him to apologize for the art comment, but it would be wise of you to apologize, as well. He has considerable experience," she told him evenly. "Mr. Moreau has been piloting ships for the past decade and a half, even if his methods are… unorthodox."
"Yes, yes," Mordin muttered, sipping his own coffee and wincing at the taste. "Game? Your move."
"Very well."
Joker spun his chair around idly, watching the speed of the ship slowly tick down, and kept an eye on the deck gravity and inertial dampeners as it decelerated.
"You are perfectly aware of Professor Solus' opinions on art," EDI stated suddenly, and Joker stopped spinning.
"Yeah, yeah. He's a big boy. He can handle it." Joker yawned.
"That is not the point, Mr. Moreau." The AI couldn't quite manage an expression, but the flicker of her "head" seemed almost… reproachful. "Your comment was meant specifically to enrage, not to reason."
"Like I said. He's a big boy."
"I suggest you apologize regardless," she said coolly, and Joker jumped as the chair began to spin around to face the hall. "I will keep an eye on the ship."
Joker stared, mouth half-open, fiddling futilely with the chair controls, then threw his hands up. "Are you serious?" he asked hollowly.
"I will keep an eye on the ship and notify you if there are any changes," EDI told him evenly.
Joker continued to fiddle with the chair controls, only to groan and thunk his head against the chair's headrest. "You're not going to let me even see the console unless I do," he accused, and EDI's "head" flickered slightly.
"Professor Solus is in the tech lab."
"Yeah, yeah," Joker muttered, standing stiffly. "That coffee did fuck all. I'm still exhausted. Maybe I'll just fall and break a leg on the way. I'd rather that."
"Please refrain from injuring yourself, Mr. Moreau."
"It was a joke," he grumbled.
Mordin, meanwhile, was doing a repair of his own. His mass spectrometer had been glitching - for some reason, it kept misreading things as copper instead of carbon composite, and the tubes inside were likely not clean, so he was crouched down with his head half under the cabinet of the equipment.
Or, he would be, if he weren't feeling so cursed jittery. Raising the tool and crouching down, he pressed the magnetic end of the screwdriver to the casing again, and - damn it, his hands were actually shaking. Maybe the decaf coffee was still too much - it did, after all, still have some caffeine in it, he knew. He sighed, eyes flicking from screw to screw and cursing the jumpiness, and redoubled his efforts, focusing on keeping his hands as steady as possible, which still wasn't much.
He set the screwdriver down and picked up another tool, and he didn't even hear when Joker entered the room.
"Hey."
Mordin didn't respond, gripping one wrist in the opposite hand, shifting position to get at the equipment casing at a better angle, and Joker leaned forward.
"Hey." He tapped the salarian on the shoulder.
Mordin jumped, startled - there was an earsplitting CRASH, and Joker let out a shrill yell, stumbling backwards. When he regained his footing, he dimly registered the tall salarian sprawled on the floor.
"Mordin?" he asked, alarmed, and darted forward, kneeling carefully. "Mordin?"
The salarian let out a groan, pressing one hand to his head, and Joker raised an eyebrow.
There was a tiny clink!, and Joker saw something small fall from the ceiling.
Curious, he glanced up, and noticed a slight dent in the ceiling; he glanced down, and saw a tiny screw laying on the floor; then, it dawned on him.
"Hey, uh, EDI?" Joker asked.
"Yes, Mr. Moreau?"
"Can you open a line to Shepard?"
"Of course."
"Joker?" Shepard's wary voice came over the comm. "Is everything okay? I heard a noise."
"Why does everyone assume it's got something to do with me?" Joker complained.
"Does it?" Joker could almost hear the commander raising her eyebrows suspiciously.
"Uh… yeah, maybe. Um… Mordin almost created a new ceiling light in the tech lab."
The comm line was silent for a moment. "What?" she asked, confused.
"With his head," Joker said.
The line was silent again; then, a small snort. "He did what now?"
Joker rolled his eyes. "Fucking frog people," he muttered. "Mordin almost put a hole in the tech lab ceiling. With his head."
Silence again; then there was a clatter. "I'll be down there in a second," she said. "Stay put."
After a moment, the commander entered the tech lab, followed closely by Dr. Chakwas. "What happened?"
"I guess I startled him, and he - uh," Joker said with an awkward laugh, "he sort of… jumped."
"People do that when startled," Dr. Chakwas observed as she knelt next to the groaning salarian, and Joker made a face at her.
"I mean, he jumped." He pointed to the dent. "And nearly made a skylight. With his head."
Shepard stared. And stared. Then, finally, she blinked slowly. "Is he okay?"
"Mild concussion. He's fine," Dr. Chakwas said, clicking a pen light in Mordin's eyes; he waved a hand weakly.
"He jumped into the ceiling," Shepard clarified.
"Salarians have been known to jump as high as ten feet directly in the air," Dr. Chakwas noted, putting away her pen light and helping Mordin to sit up. "How are you feeling?"
Mordin blinked owlishly. "Hm. Head sore. Lights bright. Shaky."
Shepard shifted and knelt down in front of him, grinning. "You okay?"
"Yes." He squinted at her. "Funny?" he inquired, and she pointed to the ceiling. He followed her finger, then huffed.
"Yes, yes. Jumpy. Caffeine."
"I thought it was decaf," she remarked.
"Thought so. Although - " Mordin paused. "Hm. Possibly switched coffee with Joker."
"Ew," Joker intoned, leaning on Mordin's worktable. "Although that would explain the lack of energy this morning."
Dr. Chakwas helped Mordin up, then helped brush his lab coat off. "You know what to do for a mild concussion," she told him. "I don't think you need me."
"Appreciate help, though." He inclined his head, and she smiled.
"I can't believe you shot into the ceiling," Shepard said, her grin growing wider. "How high can you jump?"
"Six feet or so," Mordin said modestly, and she chuckled. "Amusing?"
"I'm sorry, it's just funny, the image of - wait," she said zealously. "EDI? You don't have security footage of that, do you?"
Mordin's face twisted at the moment EDI replied "Yes, Shepard."
"Oh dear," Dr. Chakwas said, her face contorted, as if she wasn't sure if she should laugh or flee.
"I wanna see it," Joker said, grinning too, and Mordin rolled his eyes.
"Yes, yes, hilarious," he muttered as Shepard grabbed one of the displays and opened a video player. "Ridiculous."
"Let us have our fun," she said, grinning wolfishly, though she hesitated. "You know I won't if you really don't want me to, but it's so rare we get to poke fun at you."
Mordin eyed her warily, then rolled his eyes, shrugging, his shoulders leaning to the left.
She caught the lean, and her grin widened again. "EDI, play the video."
"Hey." Joker's voice echoed out the tinny display speaker. "Hey." CRASH!
"WAIT." Shepard rewinded the video and froze the screen right as the little Mordin on the screen rocketed into the ceiling, then let out a full-throated cackle. "Mordin," she gasped, and held the display out to Joker.
"Oh G-d," Joker said, grinning ear to ear. "Mordin, mate." He passed the display to Dr. Chakwas, who glanced at it warily, only to let out a rather undignified, surprised snort, one hand covering her mouth.
Mordin's eyes flicked between the laughing humans, and he grabbed the display as Shepard offered it.
Well, that wasn't a dignified expression. Eyes popping, mouth open in surprise, blurry as he shot upward, arms akimbo. He rolled his eyes and handed the display back as the two humans continued guffawing. "Yes, yes," he repeated haughtily.
"Can I have that picture?" Joker said between laughs. "Mordin, you look like you're about to ascend to the fucking heavens."
"I guess he sort of is," Shepard managed, and the two cracked up again as Mordin leaned on the worktable.
"Glad to amuse," he said dryly.
"Oh, man," Joker said, wiping one eye. "Ha! Almost makes up for not getting my regular caffeine fix this morning."
Mordin held out a hand experimentally; his hand still shook slightly. "Caffeine," he repeated ruefully.
Shepard slapped him on the shoulder. "It'll wear off in no time," she said gallantly. "Thanks for being a good sport about it, though."
Mordin sniffed haughtily once more, and busied himself brushing his lab coat off. "Experiments," he said.
"Yeah, yeah. I need to get back to the helm. EDI, how are we doing?" he called.
"Deceleration almost complete," the AI reported.
"I'll get back to the medbay," Dr. Chakwas said, and grinned up at Mordin. "Try not to put any holes in the ship?"
He flicked her lightly at the temple. "Yes, yes."
"Hey," Joker called over his shoulder as he made his way to the exit. "Can I show that to Donnelly?"
"Would prefer not," Mordin said mildly, but Joker shot him a wicked expression.
"Catch ya later, man."
"Let me know if you need anything," Dr. Chakwas said, and followed.
"Shepard," Mordin called as she, too, turned to leave. "Armor. Research."
"Oh yeah." She rolled one shoulder as she stood. "Yeah, let me grab my chestplate and I'll be back."
"Thank you."
"No problem. Oh, and Mordin?" she asked, and he turned.
"Thanks for the laugh. You could've said you didn't want us to see the video."
"Camaraderie good for team," Mordin said lightly, and she chuckled.
"Joker's going to put that as his desktop, you know," she told him, and he snorted. "Odd as ever, you are."
"Go get armor," he told her, and she nodded.
"Still. Thanks."
"Happy to help, Shepard."