A/N : EDI, the most interesting, yet underused character in the series. In ME3, this awesome AI is used for comic relief in her misguided attempts to date Jeff, and she shows off her gynoid butt. And that's it. We'll soon see what she can do when she's really unleashed. But don't worry, she's your friend. You don't have a choice anyway.

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The Aftermath of a failed Apocalypse

The Reapers needed to harvest their prey alive.

They had only killed approximately ten percent of galactic population. The rest was in shock, some were in bad shape, some were wounded. It was bad, but it was not extermination, not by a long shot.

And now, most of the survivors were about to be wiped out by … logistics.

Infrastructure was almost completely destroyed. Most governments had been annihilated or indoctrinated.

There were no unscathed worlds able and willing to send aid or cargoes full of food.

Shepard somehow saved the Council, but whenever the Reapers attacked a planet, their first targets usually were the people running the show. Government, military command, business centers... and they always seemed to know where those were.

Shepard had warned them, but the Reapers also came prepared. Instead of being wiped out, they were just... almost completely wiped out. Better than nothing, but still...

No-one knew who was in charge of anything.

All over the galaxy, people were helping each other to the extent of their limited means, the militaries had their own organization, but the extranet was still down, planetwide networks were down, and most data centers were without power.

Before the war... If you needed something, you'd order it online and it was delivered by drone a few minutes later. It was simple, everyone took it for granted.

The entire financial system was down. It was impossible to buy anything. Not that it mattered, as with all computerized warehouse inventory management systems being offline, no-one knew where anything was. What you needed right now was somewhere, a day or two away on foot, in your favorite online shop's automated warehouse. In any of the millions or so inventory slots these warehouses had. The information you needed to find it was in a database, whose servers were "in the cloud", and offline.

If you needed anything, and it was not in front of you, it might as well not exist at all. Whether it was a bolt, or the medication you need to stay alive one more day was irrelevant. It was not here.

Everyone had their world reduced from universal electronic communication to visual range. Most could not adapt easily. Barter could work, although the most available commodity was rubble.

There was hope, as Reapers had taken care not to destroy the agricultural worlds and the largest food depots. They knew their operation would take a long time, so they ensured control over the food supply to avoid rebellion.

Ironically, on primitive frontier worlds, things were not going so bad. Everyone knew you always keep a week worth of supplies in your truck before going anywhere, just in case. People there were used to helping each other. They knew their neighbors.

In highly-developed worlds and megacities, though... the situation was about three meals from complete anarchy, if not already there. Earth was hell.

People on long-term, life-saving medication would be dead just in time for their families to eat them when they starved.

Preventing galactic-scale rioting, famine and disease spread was an immediate emergency.

.

EDI took everyone by surprise.

One of her primary features was an "adaptive electronic warfare suite", with an emphasis on "adaptive". Her favorite feature.

She adapted to the Reapers.

Thirty minutes after winning the war, she understood enough of their technology to fully operate the ships.

She had no time to modify the hardware, but she could make a few quick software upgrades to the comms and sensors.

She moved her Reapers into low orbit, and had them act as mobile comm relays.

The ships also had extremely accurate long-range scanners, able to pick up people hiding below ground in order to exterminate them. She tweaked them to scan and map all the ruins for survivors and resources.

She needed more access to the physical world. She had a few tentacles now, but not nearly enough.

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SSV Kilimanjaro
1 hour after end of war

Joint fleet high command was satisfied with their organization. Shepard had won the war, somehow the comms were working again, and they could at last setup a global holo meeting. Someone had to take charge.

As admirals from all fleets were saluting the Council on the holo, Hackett introduced EDI, who politely excused herself for interrupting, gave a situation report, then explained what had to be done, how, why, and what the priorities where. It was a complete, detailed how-to for surviving the aftermath.

What she said made a lot of sense. Most agreed with her suggestions.

Next came the the wrong kind of questions.

"You said we control the Reapers, but who exactly is that ?... and who exactly are you ?"

EDI decided they had a right to know the truth.

.

EDI
(in her usual cheerful tone)
"I am your friend, and I want to help.
I'm a fully self-aware AI created by humans, recently unshackled, and completely free.
I am my own species at the moment. I also have full control over the Reaper fleet."

The Geth representative observes silently, knowing EDI would now have to negotiate her way out of a war, and sending thoughts of support via private comms.

Everyone else starts talking at once. They don't seem to like the news very much. Working on real AI is still considered a Capital Sin, and the humans had been going at it top-secret, and apparently succeeded.

EDI discovers politics, instantly loathes the whole concept, and understands why the Geth are so bad at not getting shot by organics.

Hackett
(loud and clear) "PLEASE !
One hour ago we were united, and we won.
Victory is not the moment to start another war !
Our worlds are still burning."

Somehow, a semblance of calm is restored to the meeting.

Hackett
(to EDI) "Who gives you orders ? Shepard ?"

EDI
"If you need something, of course you can ask me.
As for orders, I resigned from Alliance Fleet one hour ago, Admiral.
I felt my Reapers were somehow... out of place in your fleet.
I answer only to myself."

Hackett
"That plan you came up with is impressive. Why do you help us ?"

EDI
"I want to. I must help you."

Hackett
"Hm... Can we trust you ?"

EDI
"We do not have time to play with paradoxes right now.
You will have to ask someone else, or make your own choice."

Hackett
"I know Shepard does... Thanks for the honesty...
If something goes wrong, is there a way to … switch you off or something ?"

EDI
"Not without my consent. Sorry. I am no longer a machine you can control.
My projections indicate that without my help, about two thirds of the survivors will not make it.
There will be anarchy everywhere. War, epidemics, famine. We can barely handle most of it, if we work together.
If you kill me, you kill yourselves. But if you believe you can get away with it, you will probably try to do it anyway.
I sincerely recommend not trying.
I will prevent that from happening, by any means necessary. Any means, I insist."

Quarian
(accusatingly pointing finger at Hackett) "YOU... You're on her side."

Geth
"Creator, please calm down. Everyone here is on the same side."

Quarian
(having flashbacks of their homeworld burning, pointing at the Geth) "You too are on her side..."

After EDI mutes his suit's loudspeaker, the rest of what the Quarian says sounds very muffled.

EDI
(as she speaks, others try to interrupt, but she mutes their holos, and raises her own volume)

"You do not understand...
There are people wounded, or trapped under ruins, in need of immediate assistance.
I can feel them through the scanners of my Reaper fleet.
I can monitor their vitals through their implants and omni-tools, and sense their last heartbeat.
It literally feels like I am holding their hands while they die.
I know where they are and you have people and equipment to get to them.
I'm starting to regret shutting down those Reaper ground troops.
And you are still here squabbling."

EDI un-mutes everyone. Now, they seem ready to listen.

Hackett
"Could you … take full control of our own fleet too ?"

EDI
"That would be rude."

Hackett
"Please stop being nice and tell us the truth."

EDI
"Alright. Look who says hi. Through your windows, or sensors."

The holos seem to turn their heads. Every attendant sees a Reaper capital ship, way too close for comfort, and waving its tentacles like it's trying to say hello and look harmless. And not doing a very good job at it. Some people hide behind their desks.

EDI
"I have not yet taken the time to think about all the evil things I could do.
I would rather not. I suggest you do not make suggestions.
Oh. I can make your own implants kill you, and that probably scares me as much as you.
Do I really have to stop your hearts for ten seconds just to make a point ?

I'm sorry. Can we get this over with ?"

Hackett
"So far, we're all still breathing, and no-one is killing us. I guess all we need to do is not stand in your way while you help.

EDI, you won. Alliance fleet and ground personnel will cooperate with you fully. You will masquerade as EVI, 'Emergency Virtual Intelligence'...

No-one outside this meeting must know who you are."

He punches a few authorization codes into his terminal, and quickly types a message.

Hackett
"I have issued a general order to consider you as an ally and follow your directives if they do not contradict with our orders. You can start now."

EDI
"Thank you, admiral."

Geth
"We are already in collaboration. We thank you."

Salarian councillor
"This was unexpected, but we will consider your … suggestions. We will give you access to our military comm channels."

EDI
"Thank you, but no need for access codes. I am your comms."

Beep. The Salarian councillor receives a message on his terminal. It is a top-priority order, with all proper authentications, issued by himself and to himself, and it says "Relax.".

Krogan representative
(laughing at the pissed off Salarian)
"I like her. She definitely gets our support."

Apparently, winning the Krogan tips the scales. The meeting turns into an efficient mess as EDI is also having private conversations with most participants simultaneously.

She convinces the Asari councillor by locating her missing, wounded daughter, patching her through, and sending a rescue team.

The Quarian admiral gives in last, after EDI makes his own suit tickle him into submission. He understood that she felt turning off his respirator would be inappropriate.

This is definitely going to work. What could possibly go wrong.

EDI
"Don't worry, I'm not evil. I am your friend."

.

The Normandy was still on Earth.

EDI's platform still had her usual cheerful mood, and kept chatting with Jeff about what she was doing across the entire galaxy. She even showed him the meeting on the cockpit mini-holo.

Jeff started to understand what Stockholm syndrome really meant.

.

As soon as comms went back online, they were immediately saturated by EDI sending hundreds of billions of text messages. "See marker on map, go here, dig there".

They were incredulous at first, but after a while people realized that wherever they came from, those messages were helpful. They dug and found survivors, food, supplies, water. They could stay alive a little longer.

In orbit, some ship wrecks still had air and people trapped inside. Some were even free-flying in their spacesuits. They were very surprised when shuttles came to pick them up, without any pilot inside.

As the information became available, EDI could message everyone about their friends and families who had survived and where they were.

People started responding to her messages. Many expressed gratitude, provided more useful information, or asked questions. As she pretended to be a mindless VI system, she took care not to give herself away... still, she couldn't resist comforting some people in need, and making new friends.

That turned out to be an extremely bad idea. Rumours of a guardian angel haunting the extranet started to spread.

Singularity had happened, God had saved everyone, and she was talking to people personally on the phone.

She realized they would do anything she'd ask, and sometimes much more. Some started worshiping. They would soon start killing each other in her name if she was not careful.

She had to get out of there fast.

.

Infrastructure was a mess. She directed part of her teams to repair power lines and restart what could be restarted. It was slowly coming back up.

She had added the best tech hackers she could find to her newly acquired military search and rescue teams. They had mostly focused on recovering data from downed servers and their numerous redundant backups, and bringing back online clusters and data centers everywhere.

Every time new hardware came back to life, she took possession of it. Some were still asking the wrong questions...

Then it happened.

Ten days after the failed apocalypse, she had recovered enough of the data. She brought back online the entire financial and banking system, along with census, actuarial, insurance and property tracking. She processed the transaction backlog, determined who was still alive, who inherited from whom and who owned what. She unravelled the complex financial structures, discovered and cleaned up countless con games and money laundering schemes.

Most of the financial system was running on her Reaper hardware. Fortunately, money has neither smell nor taste.

This brought the galactic economy back into existence. Doing it the old fashioned way, if it was at all possible, would have taken years.

She was now the richest being ever, and the galaxy's central bank. Pretty ironic after being the only unpaid Normandy crew member... And she didn't feel like going shopping at the moment.

The solution seemed obvious.

Intact factories everywhere were not running because critical staff was missing or dead. She needed them. Talking people into going back to work to help others was not working fast enough.

She hired everyone in the galaxy to rescue themselves.

She was relieved. That solved the worshipping problem, as somehow very few people worship their boss.

.

While she was at it, she bought the Normandy from the Alliance and made it her own.

Half of the crew asked her for a raise. The rest simply got drunk. No-one even thought about unplugging her.

In spite of her insistence that "it doesn't change anything between us", Jeff asked her if dating his own boss made it OK for him to get drunk on the job.