The sun hadn't even risen yet when a hulking krogan woman stormed into their house and nearly took down the room to their training room where Jane was getting lessons in 'Omega vigilante style' close quarters combat. The twins were still asleep in their rooms - a quiet VI set up by their resident techs to alert them when the little monster awoke - and the house was quiet until Rym barged into the room as if her ass were on fire.
The two Vakarians are in locked in a pin, Garrus teaching Jane how to use her flexibility to press her knee into his neck and, if she had one, a blade to his stomach. Admittedly, she knows she'd never get her husband down this easily without him overpowering her, but the expectations are that this move would be after a bout of dancing around her opponent long enough to tire them, make them stupid and slow. If she found herself dealing with someone ready to fight a battle of stamina and skill, then she'd have to resort to other tactics, but it never hurt to be prepared for anything. At least, that's what Garrus insisted.
"You two," Rym says gruffly, jabbing a finger through the air. "Stop play fighting and come with me. We have something to show you."
"Can it wait-"
Jane snorts and pats her mate's belly before standing up, offering a hand to him when she's on her feet. "No. It can't. Else she wouldn't have taken down our door." She glances to the woman. "You didn't take out our front, did you?"
Rym narrows her eyes and crosses her arms with a rolling sigh, pouting as only a krogan can. "I know how to be in a hurry and not tear everything down before me." Her mouth quirks as she smirks. "I'm not Grunt."
Garrus laughs and, from the stories she's heard of when Grunt visited back when the house was being built, knows there might be a good amount of truth to that statement. The thought of Grunt plowing through whatever hard work Garrus did like a clumsy child and not the commander of the krogan equivalent to the special forces sends Jane into a fit of laughter that eventually gets Rym to chime in with a soft chuckle.
"Alright, alright. You're safe for now," Jane says as she pulls off the fingerless gloves from her hands and tosses them onto a small bench at the edge of the mats on their way to the doors, Rym leading them out. "So, what's this all about?"
Rym shakes her head and turns just enough to look over her shoulder at them. "Not telling you. You won't know until you see it."
Jane makes a show of sighing loudly in disappointment, drooping shoulders included, but follows without question. It's not everyday - or early ass morning - that Rym is so enthusiastic with something. Usually, when she has this same pep to her step, so to speak, she usually unveils a new piece of tech she and Legacy have worked on for the Wraiths or, even better in Jane's mind, her people back on Tuchanka. The anger Jane and her husband have for the krogan as a species because of their little mindedness and zero ined ideas of vengeance and violence haven't completely blinded them to the fact that perhaps growth in a different direction than war can change millennia old thinking.
Maybe not possible, but it never hurt to give the benefit of the doubt to them with krogan like Wrex and Bakara as their leaders. Those two and Grunt can guide the krogan back into the galactic community, but only if their ways of thinking can convince more of the krogan people than will fall for old grudges and bloodlust. It may be centuries, but until the krogan learn, Jane and her family will have no involvement beyond their friendships.
Jane forgoes changing her shoes from the thin ones she wears to work out into something less like walking with socks only because of curiosity. She figures why waste the time if Garrus isn't even going out with shoes at all? Besides, with the amount of excitement rolling off Rym, she seriously doubts they'd be able to even if they wanted too without her just picking them up, throwing them over each shoulder, and carrying them.
Whatever we're in for must be something good. That, or everyone is fucking with us…. Wouldn't put it past them, the assholes.
When they step out into the comfortably chilled - at least for her - pre-dawn air, she stops at the top of their front steps and lets the cool stone of the stairs sink in through the thin soles of her shoes. She looks around the beach to see some of the farming team up early and tending to the large plot of crops and the occasional drifter either taking in the sights or passing time. She doesn't really know, as the compound now has so many civilians now living with their mercenary family members, so, without their suits or armor, there was no telling who was who unless they personally worked with a Wraith - which still didn't cover even a fraction of their men's numbers.
Virmire was becoming it's own colony under the Wraths' care, hidden away from Council and Terminus. With no set governing body keeping an eye on the planet and the threat of radiation on the opposite hemisphere - and orbiting Wraith ships - keeping possible exploration teams away, the planet was theirs. They were ready to fight for it too, but with knowledge of Virmire history in mind, little chance existed that any power strong enough to take them out would have the clearance from others vying for this planet to approach. If said army did approach, it'd only result in a war among Terminus companies and the Council's own men fighting for the right to turn Virmire into a stalemate planet once again, and Jane doubted the different parties were that stupid.
Sand crunches beneath their feet and, always curious of their differences even after so many years, Jane looks at her own and her husband's differently shaped feet as they cross the span of the beach. As suspected given his larger size, his feet dwarf her own, two massive toes perhaps not as long, but definitely wider than hers. Where her shoes leave her to stomp around on practical clubs, his toes flex with each step, curling in the air and spreading just slightly when they sink into the sand.
Looking back over her shoulder, their prints trail behind side by side - small, round ovals the shape of her shoes in contrast to the larger, two-toed tracks of his bare feet. Two completely different prints belonging to two people nature never intended to find the other, but a pair of impressions in the sand that Jane can't imagine never existing. Since that day on the Presidium, he is meant for her and she him.
When she moves to right herself and pay attention to their walking as they draw close to the military complex of the compound, her eyes catch his. Smiling softly, slightly embarrassed to find herself caught with mind adrift, Jane chuckles lightly. His left mandible hangs lax in a warm smile and he leans down to nuzzle the crown of her head, purring softly and voice in symphony with the sound of gently rolling waves.
Her observations come to a close as sand gives way to concrete as they step up onto the grounds of the complex where the actually 'mercenary' side of the Wraiths happens. Here, the colony receives supplies and their men can tend to their weapons and armors, train for upcoming missions, receive missions, debrief their superiors, take shuttles or the smaller ships docked planetside to their destinations, or any other number of tasks suited more for a military force than a pack of mercs. Hell, Jane even took to training with her men and teaching - and learning - a few things.
Rym forgoes the main building of the complex and heads for the closest lift, a large cargo lift positioned so that any shipments coming in can be brought through it instead of being dragged throughout the complex to get in their men's' ways. This early, the receiving and shipping crew still sleeps, so they had the oversized lift all to themselves. While ridiculous to be in a lift the size of one of the Normandy's supply rooms, Jane can't deny they'd only have wasted time walking deep into the complex to find one more sensible. Rym already seemed tense enough without needing to bother themselves with not looking awkward in a too big and empty elevator.
Reaching the outer docks meant for the larger vessels, Jane slows a moment to look at the Normandy in her docking clamps, as if sleeping in anticipation of return to her grand adventuring through the galaxy. She'd been through hell during the war, but the Wraith engineers and mechanics rebuilt her perfectly, even improving her with prototype - or, in other words, stolen - tech. Hell, the good ship looked even better painted in the Wraith black and silver, as free in color as she was from any chains of servitude. The Normandy - like Jane, Garrus, and all of their Wraiths - were their own rule, their own superiors, and their own future.
"Been up with Legacy all night," Rym says as she stomps up the Normandy's gangplank, hands fisted at her side jerking with each step.
Jane's seen her fair share of angry and agitated krogan, and it looks just like their escort, but she knows Rym well. One didn't spend years working side by side with someone and not know their body language, as out of character with their species as a whole as it is.
It isn't a blood list got battle that fills Rym's veins, but a child-esque excitement. Why, if Jane didn't fear offended the woman, she'd compare the very way Rym seems to have a bounce in her step to the very way her twins act when they have a big surprise in the works. All Jane hopes for is that Rym, at least, isn't one to spring surprises like sand castles in the house or paint murals on the living room wall.
Jane snorts when Rym slams a krogan fist on the airlock controls, feigning a scolding tone. "Hey, don't break my ship."
"If the Normandy can't take an impatient krogan, then we need to get a new ship." Her mate chuckles and takes her hand, squeezing softly. "Should we be expecting a welcoming party?" He asks Rym as the decontamination cycle begins. "Because I'm not really dressed for a surprise party, and it isn't even my birthday."
Rolling her eyes, Jane elbows him. "It's clearly a party for me. You've already got a big enough ego that no one wants to inflate it with a party all your own."
"Oh, ouch," he lays his free hand on his chest as if he's been shot.
"You're both wrong," Rym says, back to them and chin up and ready to lead once more as soon as the doors slide open to admit them. "Your guesses are way off."
Jane hums in consideration, actually taking a moment to try and think about what could be awaiting them. Not much can happen in the ship currently being retrofitted - more like fixing all the shit the Alliance tore up before the war along with whatever wear and tear the war put the Normandy through - and half gutted of anything resembling living amenities. Unless they were being shown something about the build, no answer is coming to mind.
That is, not until Garrus lays out the only logical reason to be brought to an unfinished Normandy in the early morning hours.
"You repaired EDI." His voice is soft in stunned amazement as he stops in his tracks before the elevator doors. Looking over to Rym, he tilts his head in question. "It is, isn't it?"
She huffs and scowls at him. "Why can't you ever just let someone show you something?"
Jane's eyes widen and her jaw drops. Her head snaps to Rym at break neck speed. "You…? EDI…?" Letting go of her mate's hand as soon as the lift doors open, she charges in and spins on the other two. "Aren't you coming?! Let's go!"
Rym looks surprised by the sudden outburst, but moves at Jane's command, stepping in behind a clearly amused Garrus. The woman's reaction tells all and Jane practically bounces on her toes in anxious need to see if the news is true, if she will finally have a chance to see an old friend after they've - in essence - died. Everyone can say what they want, but to her, EDI giving up the guarantee that her code could be salvaged after the destruction of the Reaper code was no different than death.
I've already lost so damn many. I already hear too many whispers in my dreams of the dead. I can't let them tell me to add EDI's to the masses.
Her husband wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her to his side to still her jerky movements. Purring, he leans down just enough to kiss the top of her head and speak softly to her. "Let's not get ourselves all tired out before we can even welcome EDI back."
Jane chuckles lightly and nods, leaning her head against his side. She knows he isn't one for optimism, but damn if he's not an observant bastard. He knows when to be the strength to her weakness, the will to fight to her defeatist attitude, and how to force himself to be an optimist to her pessimist. As cynical as he's grown over the years and after all the shit they've seen, he's still the one to change himself to fit the situation; the man still too good for a woman like her.
Yet, he chose her and damn it all if she'll ever let him go. No amount of years will dull her devotion or still her heart as it beats to the rhythm of his own.
The crew deck looks like a ghost town with its emptiness and stripped down mess. Nothing but the bare bones of the hull remain, the mess tables and kitchenette removed for the rebuild. Some of the panels throughout the deck from the ceiling to the floor have been peeled back to get to the tech inside and repairs or upgrades Jane would never understand even if it hit her in the face.
Stepping through the MedBay doors into a still mostly intact medical suite - the equipment too heavy and still too vital for the ship to really justify the waste of time for removal if they're just to be put back in at a later date - Jane almost plows right into a pacing Joker. She quickly catches herself before they collide and he breaks something, stepping back just as he looks up with frantic eyes.
"About time you showed up!" Joker spins on his heels and walks back to where Legacy waits patiently by the door to the AI Core. "I was fixing to just go in there and wake her up myself!"
"Easy." Rym stomps towards the doors, and the movement alone is enough to break what little control Joker has on his patience as he spins and hits the open command definitely hard enough to break something.
If he managed to damage anything, he doesn't even so much as flinch as he takes lead for EDI's console. Jane and Garrus are last to enter the room and the core starts to get really cramped, really fast thanks to the massive krogan, turian, and geth Prime. Still, even more stifling is the heavy weight of anticipation, of the questions of just how much of EDI Legacy and Rym actually managed to rebuild.
"Well? Aren't you going to do something?" Joker looks between Rym and Legacy, his eyes glistening even in the low light. Oh, how it will destroy him if the years of work and rebuilding are all for naught.
Legacy lifts his facial plating. "We will establish connection and activate the EDI code."
Thinking of code, Jane realizes that, if they cannot revive EDI, or if Legacy and Rym haven't managed to implement geth coding where the Reapers' once existed, then there was no hope in reviving the geth's own damages with help from EDI in return. The two codes refusing to combine into a fully functional and completely individual AI will only mean that Jane has effectively sent the geth and EDI - figuratively - back into the stone ages.
Jane lays a hand on Joker's shoulder when he begins to fidget, to grow closer to taking action in his impatience. He turns to glare at her, but she sees right through it, sees to the fear and hope in his eyes. Nodding, she both assures him that this will work and gives the silent okay to continue as she looks to Legacy and smiles. "Do it. Wake her up."
Legacy dips his head and goes completely still. The core room goes deathly silent as everyone seems to hold their breath. Joker wrings his hands, Rym shifts on her feet, and Jane looks to her mate with her own plea for this to go right, for them to have a victory. Garrus seems to be the only one unaffected, his expression stone and giving away nothing of his own emotions. She inwardly thanks him for his stability, for his realistic nature for even the worst case scenarios, because if this all goes tits up, she will need him to be the logical and controlled one.
After a moment that seems to drag on forever, Legacy raises his head and his mechanical iris widens and shrinks. He, however, says nothing nor gives away any sign of success or failure.
The silence breaks Joker's thread of control and patience as he tightens his fists, squares his shoulders, and charges. "You stupid geth! Where is she?! Say something, you piece of shit!"
An orb of light appears, distorted and flickering, but Jane knows what - who - it is instantly. "Hello, Jeff."
Jane's eyes water as she grins and laughs. A look to her mate shows a kind smile on his face as he looks to her with a silent reassurance that there's still hope. EDI's complete return isn't, in any way, confirmed, but her being active - alive - is a great first step.
Joker starts to cry, mouth falling open and closing for a few breaths. With a rush of air, he stumbles and leans heavily on EDI's console. "Is…? EDI…?"
"Yes, Jeff, is it me." A softness seems to fill her voice when she speaks, hologram cutting on and off. "It is good to see you again."
"Fuck… I missed you."
"EDI," Jane says as she steps forward with a need to collect a damage report before they can get their hopes up too high that they shatter into unmendable pieces they fall. "Can you tell us what you remember?"
"Many of my core memory is still in process of decrypting. I will run a diagnostic to further examine the damages." A pause. "Done." Eyes around the room glance to one another in worry. "I detect damage to my programming pertaining to physical manipulation of the Normandy. I can no longer take control of ship functions."
"Life support?" Garrus hums and crosses his arms. "Surveillance?"
"I cannot manually control life support systems, but there is a separate server within my systems that maintains a habitable atmosphere within the Normandy." Another pause as she must be checking her systems again. "I cannot maintain constant observation throughout the Normandy, but I can be accessed through manual connection to my communications nodes."
Garrus nods in understanding and Jane swallows, still unable to speak. Memories apparently packed away or not, there is still so much that can go wrong, that can be wrong and they just don't know it.
"EDI?" Joker whispers, reaching out a hand to slip into the hologram and create a distortion before he pulls it back. "Do you… remember me? Remember us?"
"Of course, Jeff." Jane's sure she's imagining it, but the air seems to lighten with the warmth coming through EDI's voice. "I was sure to encode all of my memories of us, of those I care about, as priority."
He sobs and Jane lays a hand on his back in silent solidarity. Looking to EDI's makeshift image, she smiles. "Don't worry, EDI, we'll get you a body soon."
"Actually," Rym cuts in, stepping forward. "I've begun designing something similar to what she looked like before. The last bit of repairs had to be done from the inside, so while Legacy did that, I worked on building."
"How far along?" Jane asks as Joker sniffles.
"With Legacy's help it should take -"
"We predict completion of the basic forms to be within the next eleven days," Legacy answers and Joker's eyes widen.
"R...really?"
"Yes." The Prime dips his head. "Full aesthetics will take longer to complete, but functionality will be achieved to facilitate use by the EDI code."
"EDI is fine, Legacy."
"Very well," he confirms with a curt nod to EDI's request.
Jane huffs a relieved breath and looks to EDI's image. "And, when that happens, we'll be sure to show you around our new home."
"I'd like that. Thank you, Shepard."