2B's weapon danced as she ran through the halls of the ship, ever slice destroying a Batarian or defense system. She ran as fast as her systems could push her, a mix of desperation to save the kidnaped androids and a desire to put physical distance between herself and the thing she could feel behind her. It felt wrong to call whatever it was the engineer, he was normally a font of voices, curiosity, fear, joy, a chaotic kaleidoscope of emotion.

But then they'd heard a group of undercover androids had been kidnaped in a batarian slaver raid, and something in the engineer had shifted. 2B still shuddered at the sensation, like something pulling itself up from the bottom of his mind, sediment and water falling down its form as it pulled itself together from those things. The other voices had gone quiet before the thing had even stirred, no that wasn't right, they'd become that thing. Each and everyone of them had felt scared just before it happened, but like a gear being knocked into place that emotion jolted into rage.

And now here she was, more scared of that thing than she was of the aliens she was fighting.

The other androids had been vehemently opposed to the engineer actually leaving Nauvis, much less just to hunt down a few missing androids. The minds however hadn't said anything, and neither had she.

You couldn't stop this machine once it had been set towards a goal, you'd have more luck talking down a hurricane. No, in her opinion it had been a far better idea to just make it as easy and quick as possible.

--

The halls drip with blood as I stride through them, my mind oddly blank save for the chatter of the minds and 2B, coordinating amongst themselves to clear out every Batarian on this ship. Already the ship's engineer bays and bridge are under our control, drones and androids having been teleported into such critical areas to rapidly seize control.

Taking the ship like this was a delay, but one that increased the odds of success. And it was therefore acceptable. It was not something I considered myself with, and the matter dropped to the bottom of my mind. My own destination was different, and I stop in front of the doors the ships systems had marked as 'cargo storage'. The door locked from the outside, readily revealing the nature of said cargo even if my own piercing gaze couldn't already see through such paltry obstructions.

The door is made of the same weak metal as the walls, and its construction fails under my gaze. Chunks of metal carved into geometric shapes clattering to the ground and drawing flinches from the organics in the room, a mix of numerous races, Turians, Asari, Humans, even a few quarian's. I ignore all of them letting the subroutines on my armor handle the medical evaluation, my own gaze locked onto the androids chained to the wall, each one rated for krogan slaves.

The sheer relief in the androids gaze as they spot me is noted by some distant part of my mind as a positive thing, but the rest of my mind is filled with an odd sensation. The condition of the androids is poor, synthetic skin torn from their bodies revealing the mechanical components beneath, parts of their metal bodies missing and scattered on the floor. My mind notes that if I hadn't released the patches to the logic virus they would have already succumbed and been lost to madness.

My perception slows to a crawl, each and every detail on their forms studied for a subjective eternity as I feel time itself slow under the weight of my mind. Dimly I note symbols being carved into the floor, spreading from me to fill the room, it takes an eternity for me, but appears within an instant for everyone else, I note that it matches numerous symbols used on both my tech and the shield enhancing runes Labyrinthine carves, and I watch a drop of lubricant slowly fall from an open wound on an android's face. It started falling when I entered the room, and as of yet it hasn't yet hit the ground.

My mind points out that the tear storage systems on the androids are empty, on two of them because all the tears are shed, on the third as the storage system has been deliberately pierced and drained. Would they be crying right now if they could?

I'm not even sure what emotion I'm feeling right now, an odd sensation for one who can review their own thoughts, one who's emotional states can be felt and determined by others. There is a ceiling to anger in humans, only so much their minds can process, only so many hormones the brain can both produce and consume. This same limit applies to androids. This same limit applies to all organics. This same limit applies to every single emotion. There is a limit, built in.

Disgust is present there, loathing, rage, despair, hate of both myself and others, some parental protectiveness, joy at finding them alive at all, sadistic glee in what suffering I am having my drones deliver to the few batarians that survived my initial cleansing, curiosity at why another thinking being would willingly do this to another, hypocrisy for wanting to do it to another regardless.

All of these things, with all the time in the world to feel them, and no limits to constrain them to what a mortal mind is meant to feel. It should loop back around to calmness, as the emotion fades to white noise, becoming so overpresent you can't even tell it's there anymore, your actions feeling as though they are completely your own while at the same time feeling as though you are dancing upon strings you cannot feel.

That is not what I feel, it does not overwhelm me, it does not drown out the rest of my mind, strangling logic in its crib before it can be formed. Instead it is leashed, and told to wait. The time to act on it will come later and my emotions accept this, joining the rest of myself seamlessly.

My artificial heart strains as I walk towards the androids, the carved patterns shifting and moving with each motion of my body. An outlet for my mind as my body fails to contain it. My muscles and weapon systems twitch as I kneel before the androids, the chains long having been reduced to their component atoms once my displeasure with their existence finalized. And with a wave of my hand the androids are remade whole, artificial organs replaced before the androids even realize having newly exposed and rapidly grown organs should hurt. As if pain was something I would allow them to feel.

My gaze turns from them as I rize from my kneeling position, I hadn't truly needed to kneel but such actions calmed the androids, providing a faint sense of comfort. I feel one break out into tears once again now that they can, and they lunge towards my armor, it fades away before they can collide with the sharp metal edges and they slam into my side instead, tears failing to wet my undersuit. One hypothesis confirmed there, at least one of them would be crying. My gaze continues its journey across the room, not having stopped even as my own position changed with the removal of my armor.

There is fear in the eyes of every organic in the room, fresh tears in their eyes. They are genuinely more afraid of me than they were of the slavers? How odd. One of my arms wraps around the crying android, Balistraia guiding the motion.

A thought has drones crawling from my body, medical supplies clutched in their robotic grips. My ability to work on organic substances is decidedly limited compared to my mastery over other aspects of the material world but it's all just atoms in the end, and organics are just naturally forming machines.

The various captives try to struggle away from the various robots, but the Batarians had been adept at their trade and they are unable to meaningfully impede my work, wounds are sanitized and stitched closed, bandages and dressings applied, ointment applied to electric burns from where shock batons had struck, bruises are treated similarly. Painkillers are injected, unlike organic variants my own fail to impede mental processes in the slightest, for the humans combat regeneratives are injected and they watch with naked wonder as wounds visibly close. My mind finishes processing information on alien biology, and determines that there would be no allergic reactions and they are similarly injected. Normally my mind would worry about actually using medicine derived from Nauvis wildlife, but those parts of me are busy.

As the last injury is fixed 2B and a swarm of drones enters the room, and with a blink the chains holding the slaves fall under my will. With her are several other slaves, these ones not new acquisitions, already they have control chips implanted within them. Those chips are disabled and broken down the moment the slaves step onto the symbols still flashing throughout the room.

My gaze shifts to 2B, my eyes meeting hers as our minds boundaries strain with the flood of information. It seems she is in a similar state to my own, my own emotions drawing out her own. Something in me drives me to make a statement, knowing that the words within me must be spoken, be brought into the universe. My head tilts at an angle as I speak. "Everyone, everything, every world, it will burn. Crumble into cosmic radiation, be unmade" I will see it done.

The Batarians, an endangered species. The council, they allowed this?

AN-

didn't actually end up working on it, so this is a bit unpolished and not at all canon. even in a personality sense.