Chapter 42: Skimmed
Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.
Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.
#
A week after the doppelgangers boarded the Normandy, they were less of a novelty but still a bit of shock at times to most of the crew. But not all.
"Jeff," EDI began her sentence the same way she always spoke to the Normandy's pilot. But somehow it still excited him.
"Yeah?" he answered, juggling several aspects of the ship's current flight path. Damn, but even her voice was hot.
She continued speaking, the AI oblivious to his own infatuation with her, sick though it may be. Joker knew he hid it pretty well, and he hadn't breathed a word of it to anyone. Not yet, anyway.
"I do not have the data necessary to answer a question, so I decided to ask you."
Again, the query was reasonable and normal, almost expected at this point. The longer they all spent on the Normandy, the more they saw and did, the more EDI seemed to come into herself. It was like she was trying to make up for lost time and discover all the reasons for any organic pattern that had yet to be explained.
"Yeah, okay. Shoot." He looked over at the physical body she had invaded, sitting in the co-pilot seat. The physical appearance of this particular mech didn't define EDI, and the man thought he would have fallen in love with her eventually, bodiless or otherwise. But the hot robot bod certainly didn't hurt matters. Joker grinned at the thought, contemplating the ways he could test the functionality of it.
EDI replied, interrupting his lewd thoughts, "What is the appropriate course of action when two people are romantically interested in each other, but neither is aware of the other's desires?"
Joker nearly crashed the ship.
That's how it felt anyway: like his heart had thumped out of his rib cage, pulling his internal gravity out of balance and shoving his mental course off the established path and into the abyss. "What?" he managed to choke out, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.
Was she talking about him and her? He and she? The two of them?
Still unaware of his emotional turmoil, the ship's AI clarified, "If I'm not mistaken, our newest recruits are stuck in an endless cycle of 'does-he, doesn't-he'. Or 'does-she, doesn't-she', in Vadix's case."
"What?" he repeated, thrown for a loop with the unexpected conversation topic. Joker continued to watch his work screen, attempting to arrange his features into an expression that wouldn't betray him.
He felt EDI's gaze on him, and his stomach plummeted into the chasm created by his thundering heart. But she said nothing, answered none of his questions about them. The AI was too engrossed in the current solution that eluded her.
Clearing his throat, Jeff tried to respond like a normal human being. Or a "operational organic", as EDI would say. "Well, I suppose if neither of them is willing to risk the possibility of rejection, it would require some outside push in one direction or the other."
EDI tilted her head, practicing her physical mannerisms. Then Joker scoffed at himself, remembering something she had said once: it only took one time for her to learn something. The woman's ability to learn was unequivocally perfect.
"You're saying an external stimulus is required," she stated, as though she were weighing the options available for just such an "external stimulus".
Slowly, Joker nodded. "Yes, I suppose that is what I'm saying." He paused, unsure if he wanted to ask the question that burned at the back of his throat. When it finally emerged, it did so cautiously, like an animal of prey exiting the safety of its home. "Why do you ask?"
Now she met his eyes, the silver metal of her face expressionless. "How would you like to test this theory of external stimulation, Jeff?"
The human thought there were a lot of things he was willing to test as to the AI's external stimulation, but—sadly—he knew that wasn't what she had in mind. Joker sighed, also knowing that he would do anything she asked of him. "What do you want me to do?"
#
Standing at the end of his bunk, Joker shook his head. Is nothing sacred? he wondered. The only downside to the ship's ultra-sexy AI was the inability to keep anything a secret. He lamented this fact for just a moment, pausing to recognize the end of an era in his own life.
At first, EDI had asked him simply to speak to the turian about things with Cass. But that was one line Jeff was not willing to cross, not even for the enchanting AI. It would have felt like breaking the "bro code", even if he and Vadix weren't exactly "bros".
Then she had suggested inciting Vadix into a jealous rage. This idea was also shot down, and rather quickly at that, just before the pilot had suggested EDI just leave the specifics to him. She had agreed on the condition that he provide her with "a full report" after the fact.
This was the reason Joker now found himself collecting all of the Fornax copies he had saved over the years, including the special "seasonal" editions. The thought of giving them away felt like giving away a piece of his soul.
But maybe he was just being dramatic.
After all, from the moment Joker had seen EDI wearing Dr. Eva Coré's body, every other feminine form had become inadequate.
It was with this thought in mind that the man gathered up his previously beloved magazines, placing the issue EDI directed on the top of the pile, and went in search of the young, lovestruck alien in whose life the AI was intent on interfering. What a womanly thing to do, Joker thought with a smile.
Soon enough he found the turian in the training room, thanks to the AI's perfect knowledge of everything aboard the Normandy—though it was also the most likely place for the recruits to be. With just a small amount of trepidation, he approached the other man, suddenly questioning whether this was a wise course of action.
"Hey there," he started awkwardly.
Vadix glanced up from cleaning a sniper rifle, a dubious expression on his face. "Hey," he replied, equally as awkward.
Joker gulped silently: this was going to be harder than he had expected. "Where's Cass?" he asked, opting for a slow approach.
"Oh," Vadix said, looking down at the weapon again. It sounded like he'd come to expect this question. "She just stepped out. EDI needed her for something I guess. She'll be back soon enough, so you might as well stick around to talk with her."
Was he supposed to be her secretary or something? "Actually, I'm here for you," Joker said, shuffling forward a couple of steps.
At this the turian looked up sharply, suspicion etched into his face. "And why is that?" he asked, his tone deeper than before.
"Just have something for you." Holding up his hands to display the publications, Jeff demonstrated he meant no harm. "Thought you might be interested in these, and I don't have need of them anymore."
"What are they?" Curiosity crept over the wariness in his voice and his features.
Now Joker hesitated. It wasn't like he walked around telling everyone about his porn collection. "Oh, uh, just some old copies of Fornax I forgot to get rid of."
The turian's expression didn't change. If anything, his confusion seemed to increase. "What's that?" he finally asked.
Gaping at the man, Joker couldn't formulate a response right away. How could he not know? Did he live under a rock? Was he gay? Maybe EDI, for once in her relatively short (if exceptional) existence, had been wrong.
Whatever the reason, the pilot was not about to explain the minutiae of adult media to this apparently naïve young man. "Uh, well, just think of it as research," he fumbled for a description. "Or the necessary companion of delayed gratification." With this feeble explanation, Joker set the stack of magazines on a flat surface—he hardly noticed what it was in his hurry to escape the uncomfortable turn of conversation—patted them fondly twice, made eye contact with the turian and nodded once, then rushed out the door as quickly as his crippled legs would carry him.
Which was not nearly quick enough.
#
Vadix was perplexed.
The surprise visit from one of the crew members had been odd, to say the least. He hadn't even bothered to introduce himself, though he had called Vadix by his name. That probably meant he was supposed to remember the other man's name, the turian thought worriedly.
After he'd left—darting away about as quickly as a sluggish elcor—Vadix had wandered over to the shelf where the pile of papers had been lain. Upon inspection, it was actually a pile of glossy magazines, the covers of which were nearly grotesquely colorful, edged with strange lighting that barely illuminated its subjects.
Upon closer inspection, these subjects were actually women.
Naked women.
Reeling backward, the man felt somehow insulted that this stranger had presumed to know him well enough to give him such a thing. Not only was the notion offensive but, in Vadix's mind, the concept of pornography was monstrous. No person, man or women, deserved to be objectified in such a manner. Even if they were paid to do so.
Had he known where they kept the waste disposal bags, he would have thrown away the entire stack.
Until the woman on top caught his eye.
Even in the poorly lit setting, her red hair blazed. This was matched only by the flames painted on her lips, parted slightly as she stared into the camera lens. Perched atop a stool, the woman's fingers gripped the edge of the seat between her legs while her toes balanced on the sides of the footrest, knees spread into an angle that approached 180 degrees.
Her flexibility was admirable, of course, but her likeness to Cassana was what took his breath away.
Without thinking, Vadix let his eyes trace over the stranger's curves, noting the bulging edges pressed beneath her arms that spanned the length of her chest. This seemed to match what he had seen of Cassana as she slept their first night on the Normandy. Anatomically speaking, anyway.
Although, with this pose the pink circles he had previously observed were nowhere to be seen. It was like she was trying to cover her nakedness without the use of clothing. The effect was both frustrating and erotic.
He followed the outline of her arms down, feeling no desire to see the face of some other woman, watching how the human's torso narrowed slightly at the waist, her skin paler than that of Cassana. She was also less toned, Vadix thought with satisfaction. Cassana had worked hard, and her efforts were already beginning to show.
Then her arms shifted into hands, soft and fleshy with too many fingers. Yet they were also beautiful, with the promise of a tender touch he could never hope to achieve given the ever-present threat of slicing weaker things into ribbons. The woman's hands were placed one on top of the other, holding on to the flat surface of the seat, just next to the apex of her thighs.
Vadix knew what would be hidden by those hands had the woman been a turian. But the human species' anatomy was altogether foreign to him. What secrets did she keep? How similar was her race to his? Would they even be compatible?
He really should have paid better attention in biodiversity class.
"What are you reading?"
The familiar feminine voice, along with her unexpected question, nearly made Vadix shove the heap of Fornax copies onto the floor. His head whipped around while he scrambled to reassemble them into an orderly stack. "Nothing. It's nothing." He could hear the false note in his own voice; he'd always been a terrible liar.
"Okay," Cassana replied, drawing the word out for what felt like an eternity. "So I had an interesting time with EDI," she relieved him of his present state of anxiety by moving on from the topic of his unchaperoned activities. "I'm still not sure what exactly she wanted me to do. Honestly it felt like she was just trying to keep me busy—and away from you." She looked at him sideways as she fiddled with the weapons locker.
"Oh," Vadix said without emotion. He wasn't going to attempt to explain his own thoughts about the supposed accidental separation. The AI and that crew member must be in on something together.
Luckily, the human continued speaking without requiring additional response. "But EDI did tell me that Dr. Chakwas got held up with something, so she won't be able to start her first aid lesson with us just yet. Instead, Samantha is going to do some sort of introductory lesson with us."
"Samantha?" he asked, thinking of the quiet but piercing woman who had accompanied them to Tuchanka. "What are her credentials?"
Cassana merely shrugged. "I'm not sure. That's just what I was told. We're supposed to meet her in that random conference room in about an hour."
"Very well," Vadix answered. At least she hadn't followed up about the magazines. Surely whatever lay in store couldn't be worse than that.