Chapter Text
PART I
Chapter 3: Fusarium*
SSV Normandy
Tali leaned against the alcove at the back of the AI core, languidly tapping on her omnitool as she checked and re-checked her data. And Traynor, a haggard lump on the floor, huffed as she struggled to put one of the core's access panels back in its place. The door behind her hissed.
"Ahhhhh, don't do that!" she yelped as the panel rattled to the floor.
"What? I'm just coming in..." Kaidan peered over Traynor's shoulder. "How's it going here? Any luck?"
Tali continued to scroll through her omnitool and shook her head. "It's not looking good, I'm afraid."
"It appears EDI's blue box has been corrupted. We've been here all night and I can't make heads or tails of it," said Traynor.
"Can't we just load one of her backups?" asked Kaidan.
Traynor narrowed her eyes. "That's just it, there isn't one we can use. It's as if someone cracked all the eggs, scrambled them, then shoved them back into the carton. And half the yolks are missing."
Kaidan tilted his head.
"She's missing some of her original Cerberus code," explained Tali, simply.
"How can that be?"
"You may have had a point, Major. If the beam was meant for the Reapers, then perhaps anything with Reaper code could also be destroyed. That would include EDI, unfortunately," Traynor replied.
"Huh...yeah, that's not good." Kaidan rubbed the back of his neck. "Now what?"
"We're not sure," said Tali. "The ship can operate without her, but we'd be missing vital data and defense capability. And optimizations too."
"It might be possible to repair the data with expert assistance. But there's no guarantee that whatever comes back would be our EDI," Traynor admitted, feeling defeated by the complexity of the problem. EDI, who had become a person in her eyes long before anyone else's, deserved an answer.
"Understood, Traynor." Kaidan sighed, dreading the conversation he would have to have next.
Joker was just ending his conversation with Engineer Adams over the internal commlink when Kaidan entered the cockpit.
"Hey Major," said Joker. "Just in time."
"Was that Adams? What did he say?"
"The damage wasn't as extensive as we thought. Looks like we'll be up and running in the next 36 hours. He's got Adams and Donnelly working like dogs on Deck 4. Still working on navigation, though."
"That's great news Joker." Kaidan stood stiffly with his fingertips grazing the long arm of the console.
"Is it? I'm kind of thinking this planet might not be a bad place to start over. It's got this whole tropical vibe going—we'd just need some of those little drink umbrellas and some lounge chairs. And then we could, uh, you know, repopulate?"
Kaidan laughed nervously. "I don't know, Javik's not really my type."
"Yeah, I guess not." Joker sensed the poorly concealed tension in Kaidan's posture. "Um, so what's up?
Kaidan hesitated. "Well, there isn't an easy way to say this Joker..."
"What?"
"I...I don't think we're going to be able to get EDI back online."
Joker shifted in his seat. "What do you mean?"
"Traynor thinks the beam from the Crucible may have destroyed EDI's Cerberus code. EDI's backups are unsalvageable at this point."
"Wait, so are you telling me she's...gone?"
"No, no, that's not what I'm saying. I mean, at least I don't think so. Um..."
"Shit..." Joker's face crumpled under the brim of his cap.
"I'm sorry, Joker," Kaidan offered. "For what's it's worth, Traynor says we might be able to get her back with more help. Our skeleton crew isn't equipped for this kind of situation."
"W-Why are you telling me this?"
"I know how you feel about her. I don't want to hide anything."
Joker's embarrassment at receiving sympathy expressed itself as a sneer. "I mean, it's not like I could have taken her home to meet my dad. She's the ships AI for godsake...she..."
"Jeff..."
Joker fell silent as he stole a glance at her limp, metallic body.
"We can't leave her here like this."
"Yes, you're absolutely right. Maybe it would be best to take her to the AI core for now." Kaidan wiped his brow with the back of his hand and left Joker alone in the cockpit.
There was no escaping the air of somberness in the CIC. Stepping off the ship for fresh air was just as suffocating; the oppressive humidity of the jungle crept between the narrow pockets of space between fabric and skin. Kaidan tugged at the collar of his shirt as he stood outside. He let out a big breath, but it didn't feel like he had.
How do you do this everyday, Shepard? Listening to everyone, giving them advice? Setting them straight when they're out of line? You've been shouldering the burden of existential threat and helping strangers. You've been running errands for Hackett, brokering peace between peoples. Killing giant, sentient robots. Making morally difficult decisions. No big deal, right Shepard?
His awe and admiration for her had always been clear. And he had loved her, that was certain. Still loved. But the line between love and admiration had not been as easy to make sense of.
Now he was forced to inhabit the space she had left. It made him uneasy. Kaidan was no stranger to leadership—he had commanded his own covert unit—but the fate of an entire planet had never been dependent upon his decisions. He was never the one breaking ground. Shepard broke the ground, then heaved it with the might of a thousand oceans, enough to awaken Gaia herself and command the trees to grow. Sometimes she was the wind, carrying seeds far and wide, letting them sprout somewhere new or undiscovered. He loved her for that.
James, Kaidan, and Steve came to carry EDI away. The men first laid her on the floor, then arranged their arms into a hammock beneath her—Steve cradling her head and upper body, James carrying the bulk of her midsection, and Kaidan supporting her legs. EDI's arms, carefully draped across her waist, were stiff and hinged, no hint of the life she had earned through experience and freedom. The bridge crew looked on as the trio made its procession to the elevator. Joker trailed behind helplessly, frustrated that his body would not bear the weight.
The men laid EDI on the pedestal of the alcove, where her body had been stored when it belonged to Eva Coré. The AI's body had now returned to being just another piece of hardware. EDI—the Normandy's EDI—had disappeared and gone somewhere no one could reach.
Joker stayed behind when they left room. Standing inside the place that housed her brain was oddly intrusive now, and he almost felt the need to apologize for being there. He stood in the middle of the room, several feet away from alcove.
"Hey, EDI. I know you can't hear me. I know you're not here... but I hope you're ok. I hope you come back..." Joker shuffled his feet and tugged at the brim of his cap. "Damn, I don't know why I'm saying this out loud. This seems really stupid. This is stupid...this is stupid..."
Tears rolled their way to the margins of his eyes but never fell.
"I feel like a giant asshole right now. I should have—I should have tried harder. Harder to pilot the ship out of the beam's reach. I wish I'd known. I wish you could have told me something was wrong..." Joker turned away. There was nothing else to do or say except leave for Earth, and hope that more souls had survived the destruction than not.
"I'm sorry."
When he returned to the cockpit, Joker took off his cap, smoothed it, and placed it on EDI's seat.