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„Does this unit have a soul?”
Gasp. A shuddering clinging to air. Broken shards of a life over.
“I’d rather risk non-functionality with the crew of the Normandy than risk it alone.”
Destroy or be destroyed. No other way.
She was ready to throw her life away, along with those she condemned to perish, and now…
“I’m proud of you.”
Gasp. Gasp. Gasp. Breathing fills the quiet rubbles around her. Faint sirens somewhere beyond her comprehension.
“Shepard… I’m going to modify my self-preservation code now.”
Shooting echoes around her. Prisms of red, all-consuming… Shepard braced herself. If she was to go, if she was to drag others down with her, let it be a spectacle to behold. Let the aftermath etch their white-hot memories into the fabric of the universe forever.
“Because the Reapers are repulsing. They are devoted to nothing but self-preservation.”
Then why is she breathing? Why is her body draped almost elegantly over the skeletons of the dead?
“I am different.”
“I know,” she whispered to the debris. “I know.”
“Does this unit have a soul?”
“It did,” she sobs; the helmet no longer distorting her voice. It sounded like defeat. “You had.”
~**~
Everyone was celebrating in their own way.
Jeff was not.
“Jeff,” he thought. “Nobody called me like that.”
Tali was dancing with Liara, a mess of limbs and coordinated crying. James cheered them on, too loudly, and he shouted a hoarse “Lola! For Lola!”, off-beat, like a struggling heart. Kaidan stood next to James, his hand on his shoulder like old pals, but he held onto his dog-collar like a lifeline, like a reminder of someone who most likely lost hers. Cortez, bless his pure heart, sobbed into his palms like any good-natured friend would do.
Javik looked out the window, stared into the green leaves of a planet unknown, with a sombre happiness only he could pull off. He seemed truly happy. Content, almost.
Garrus was sitting alone at the far-end, the lights illuminating the hard angles on his face. He looked devastated.
Jeff could relate to that. So, he stood up and sat down right next to him.
Garrus stared at his hands, like he saw the phantom image of someone else’s in his.
“EDI’s still…?” he hesitantly asked, and Jeff nodded.
“She’s not responding. I don’t think she’ll wake up ever again.”
It was strangely relieving to say that out loud; something that took up his mind like air right before it leaves a malfunctioning suit.
“Do you think Shepard…?”
Jeff did not know how the turian wished to finish the question. Does he think that Shepard survived? Or that she wasn’t responsible?
“She did what she had to do.” Jeff murmured at last. “I would never be angry at her for that. And we don’t even know if Shepard was the reason for… all of that.”
Garrus looked up at him, stared right through him. Jeff thought he’d seen all shades of grief, but now he found another one in the turian’s eyes.
“EDI had Reaper tech. The geth, that also coincidentally deactivated at the same time, had Reaper tech. Shepard did this. And I’m sorry it came to this. Especially knowing she was very fond of you two.”
Jeff had the response ready. He practiced it for a long time, long before this last, insane mission. He practiced it with EDI, when she said that this conclusion they lived now is entirely possible; she calculated every outcome, and she saw herself in none.
She held her head high when she confronted him with this truth.
“I am not the Reapers, Jeff,” she stated, proud and confident, and Jeff had to kiss her hand and nod along because there wasn’t a single doubt in him about that. “I’d risk non-functionality for you.” And then, just because she could, she added: “I’d die for you.”
“She did what she had to do,” Jeff repeated, not being sure who he’s referring to.
Both women did what they had to do. They ended a nightmare.
It wasn’t their fault they started a new one for him.
~**~
She awoke to the sirens. She found that fitting, somehow; she ended all with a blast, and she starts anew to another one.
“Oh, God!” The voice was familiar; it tickled recognition in Shepard’s mind. “She’s alive! Move her! No, don’t move her like that, you fucking idiot, gently… gently… Hey, you! Hey! Come here and help, goddamnit, Commander Shepard lives! Come on, move your asses! Move, move!”
A hand on hers. Somebody’s touching her. Not three fingers, but five; is it five? It could be three. It could easily be three. Their Heavens collided, somehow, in the blast.
“I’m watching over you,” she mumbled. “You’re never alone.”
“Damn right you watched over us, Commander,” the voice boomed back, and now many hands caught her in that very painful Heaven she ended up. “You’re a blasted Archangel!”
“Archangel…” Shepard chuckled. “Tell him he’s never alone.”
“I don’t have the slightest clue who you’re talking about, but I sure as Hell would tell anybody anything you want.”
“He had a soul.”
“Damn right he did.”
“She… She was my friend.”
There was a hand on hers. Fiver-fingered. Calloused, gentle.
“I believe she was, Commander.”
There was light after the dark. Blinding, all-consuming. Not red. White, like a new beginning. White, like reborn life.
Shouts reverberated against her fractured skull. She felt herself split open, the carefully placed seams coming undone.
“Tell… Miranda she did… a fantastic job. Now let me die.”
“That I won’t do, Shepard. That I won’t do.”
~**~
“Communication’s back on!”
Liara rushed into the Mess Hall of the Normandy, her blue blushed with excitement.
Joker had the polite interest of a man in love with the ship that was stranded, so he got up, pancreas be damned, and forced himself to care.
“They say the rachnii is working on the Citadel relay, and they do an incredible job at that,” Liara chirps over the ecstatic shouting on the comms. “And the asari, too, they… They work together to fix it. Everyone who survived, they are working already. Shepard would… have loved that.”
Joker knew she would have. Shepard made the ultimate sacrifice, and Joker knew for certain that her last moments were filled with agony.
She had to bury the guilt of batarians killed. And after, knowing she destroyed something that she actively worked for… A geth civilisation, in synch with the quarrians, and now it’s nothing more but a page in history books the quarrians were left to write; it must have been the final blow to her.
Joker wasn’t angry at Shepard; he never could be. He was angry at the fucking Reapers that seem to leave nothing but destruction behind, no matter if they live or die.
“Oh, there are so many voices I can hardly separate them,” Liara heaved, her eyes filled with sorrow. “Glyph really could help me out now.”
Another sacrifice. Joker’s hands balled into a fist. He didn’t like tech, at least not at first. He thought them to be unnecessary. And then he made friends. Fell in love.
“Commander Bailey, is that you?” Liara hushed the others with a meaningful look; silence filled the ship. “Are you at the Citadel? How’s the damage?”
Garrus seemed out of breath, like he ran for hours and now had no idea how to stop. Joker stood next to him, straightened himself in all his aching glory. Garrus seemed to appreciate the gesture; his smile flashed, then vanished.
Liara suddenly sank to her knees. They stared at her in unblinking, terrified unison.
“What?” she whispered into the comm. “What?”
Garrus swayed. Joker felt the end approaching. He just didn’t know whose end it will be.
“By the Goddess… Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?”
The turian walked up to her and firmly lifted her arm towards him. “Bailey? What did you find?”
Liara’s eyes filled with tears as she repeated his news.
“Shepard. He found Shepard. And she’s still alive.”
~**~
Shepard awoke to kisses on her hands, her face, her hair.
“Am I in Turian Heaven?” she mumbled. “I did have a turian Archangel, who was my boyfriend, mind you, so not too unlikely.”
“Shepard, love of my life, dearest of the stars, please, shut your mouth and rest.”
That voice…
She violently came to her senses, opened her eyes. The world rolled around in mad circles, tumbling from one side of her brain to another.
“Sit back down, you mad, mad woman. My girl. My brave, brave girl.”
Three-fingered hands pressed her back into the cushions. A monitor was bleeping agonizingly loud. There was the smell of antiseptics and pain in the air, and blood, so much blood.
“I can’t feel my legs.”
“But your legs can feel you, just give it time.” Garrus’s face swarmed her vision. He looked pale, a shadow on the wall, that suddenly was coloured by the waking sun. “They are moving, don’t worry. Miranda said you’d need some time, probably a lot of time to feel like yourself again, but… Miranda also said that she’s not done with you. She’s a miracle worker, she is. Rushed to you as if her father’s ghost chased her to your aid. Her Cerberus training paid off, I must admit; you are alive largely because of her, but in no small part thanks to your Shepard-luck you never seem to completely run out of.”
Shepard ordered her fingers to squeeze Garrus’s; she didn’t know if she succeeded or not. She could only judge by Garrus’s smile, which was a sign of faith, a sign of hope.
“Miranda…?”
“She oversaw your reconstruction once again. She said she’d be an expert on your body by the end of this year. I, the overprotective and overly jealous boyfriend, strongly disagreed. She took it well.”
Shepard knew she chuckled at that. It hurt too much not to be real. And Garrus was right there, easing the pain into reassurance.
“How long was I out? Please tell me it’s not another two years down the drain.”
Garrus snorted. Even that was adorably comforting. "Do you seriously think I’d have survived another two years without you?”
Shepard blinked. Her eyelids obeyed. Tears prickled her eyelashes. “You did fantastic the first time around.”
Garrus’s face was scolding. “I blame the meds for this accusation, and not you. But please don’t say that.”
“I’m sorry.”
The hold on her wrist became urgent, fearful.
“There’s nothing you should be sorry for. Not ever. Not for anything.” He kissed her again. This time she felt the warmth seeping under her skin and it stayed right there. “You did it. You won. You did the impossible. You defeated the big, bad Reapers, ended the Cycle once and for all; and then you came back to me.”
She closed her eyes again, to let herself wallow in self-hatred without the disturbance of those loving eyes.
“Does this unit have a soul?”
“I failed so many I hardly feel I achieved anything.” But maybe the Star Child was wrong, maybe… “EDI?”
“I am different.”
She opened her eyes again. Garrus softly shook his head when he was sure it can be seen.
“None of this is your fault.” Garrus held her hand like Shepard could break in any moment. “She knew the risks. Everyone did.”
“The geth probably didn’t. Legion didn’t.” And then she added: “Joker didn’t.”
Garrus was more forceful now. It soothed something in Shepard’s soul. “Listen to me. Listen to me now, and please, understand this.”
Shepard nodded in defeat. Everything she does leads to defeat, somehow.
“You sacrificed much. But you saved many. Many, many more. EDI was ready to give her life so that Joker could live his; all of your crew was ready, every single one of us. I would have died for you without hesitation, and I would have done it again, and again, and again, and never once would I have blamed you. Nobody blames you. The geth can be rebuilt; thanks to you, the Creators now know how to do it, how to live together, how to…” Garrus lost the words. He rarely did that, and it moved Shepard to the core. “They know all because of you. You gave the geth a purpose beyond their written fate, and trust me, they were so proud to serve under the one who believed in them like you did.”
“I could have… I could have chosen differently, I could have Controlled, I could have Synthetized, I could have… I chose destruction, because I am destruction, a soldier of death, the one who left a child to his fate, alone, in flames…”
What would that bring her? Would he be able to look Garrus in the eye if she became the Illusive Woman? The one who thinks she’s in control, when in reality, control long slipped away from her grasping fingers? How could she trust a Being of Nothing, that Star Child, taking the shape of her guilty consciousness, blaming her for wanting to end it, feeding her with alternatives she knew nothing about, but had seen the results of in different fates?
Control can slip, and then the galaxy would be left with the same problem the Illusive Man deemed himself fit to solve, but ultimately, failed at. A forced Synthesis, an illusion of peace would sour too quickly, stagnancy would bring decadence. Life is struggle; remove the struggle, remove the reward.
EDI felt alive because she had the choice to suffer for it.
Shepard cannot play god, she knew that. Those before her showed her how awfully incompetent everyone in that role is; even those with millennia backing up their existence.
“You did the right thing. And I’m proud of you,” Garrus whispered.
“I’m proud of you,” Anderson echoed.
“And EDI would be so, so pleased with you. You taught her how to live. And she lived right until the very end. You think you killed her, but you saved her long before that. And Legion... He made a choice, and you respected it, let it unfold. You never stopped him. There's nothing more you could have done for him.”
Shepard put her damaged hand to her chest. Her heartbeat, her own. The Illusive Man didn’t change her; Miranda didn’t change her. No one in this galaxy could change her. Was it a good thing? Should she have been changed? Changed to Control, to be brave? To be an Absolute when she herself felt like a simple soldier among the many?
“Does this unit have a soul?”
“Do I have a soul?” she asked and Garrus blinked fast, as if he could not comprehend the meaning behind the question. “I made those horrible choices. Do I even have a soul? Do I get to have one? Or am I a product of statistics I can’t even comprehend? Juggling with fates, making the ultimate sacrifices?”
Garrus kissed her hand and bowed his head down, as if he knelt before a royalty, and not beside a battered soldier's hospital bed.
“You have the biggest soul in this galaxy, and in the next.” He smiled for her; probably wider than he felt himself to be able to. “Your questions just proved that. Legion would be smug about it, he would have loved the intrinsic philosopism in them.”
Shepard locked eyes with Legion one last time; before his haunting shape could dissolve into acceptance.
~**~
Joker sat outside the hospital room. It was no surprise that Garrus was in there for at least two hours by now, and nobody dared to interrupt their reunion; so the crew gathered on the corridor together, jokes gaining momentum as time passed.
There were carefree, honest, happy smiles exchanged. James smeared tears from his eyes and Kaidan, that foggy-eyed bastard, mocked him about that relentlessly.
Liara left them.
Joker found that strange; Shepard and the asari grew very close. He even went as far as to realize they were best friends; no wonder why. Liara stood by Shepard all the way from the beginning, even if not as presently as Tali did. Being the Shadow Broker does that to a friend.
Joker sighed deeply, tried to cheer himself up. Shepard is alive! That is a miracle if Joker had ever seen one, and by God they were running low on those lately.
EDI would tease him to ease up. She developed a rather lovely sense of humour over the course of their relationship.
Joker’s comm beeped discreetly into his silence. He raised an eyebrow, certainly not expecting anyone to bother him in these fateful moments.
“Joker!” It was Liara. “I have… By the Goddess, I don’t even know how to begin to explain this. I would advise you to come here quickly. As quickly as you can.”
Joker was already on his feet, and, followed by the crew’s weirdly sad stares, he hobbled to the exit sign.
“What’s going on? I thought you’d want to see Shepard…”
“Garrus will hardly let her go anytime soon. And I have plenty of time to catch up with our hero, so… Just come. There’s a shuttle waiting for you. Hop in!”
He hopped in.
The Citadel was a mess, even from far above. It was more than a crater than anything else; but it still stood, like a stubborn child in the middle of a snowstorm, happy to be washed away by the waves of cold just for a moment of giddy joy.
They will rebuild. Those united under Shepard’s name are holding hands – metaphorically – to make it happen soon enough. Even krogan arrived to help – they lifted the heavy stuff, as they put it. Joker firmly believed Wrex beat them into cooperation, but it worked, however improbable it seemed.
The shuttle stopped outside a severely damaged building (what a shocker), and Joker took a tentative step on the balcony.
“Will I plummet to my death because of your stupid call?” he bellowed, forcing himself not to look down, or around, or basically anywhere but the intact door.
“Don’t be such a loser, Joker!”
Liara opened the door. Joker immediately noticed how she beamed at him; he was distracted by it, but not in a good way.
“Which Goddess of yours should I start praying to?” he winced, and Liara jumped (jumped!) into the air with her bubbly laughter.
“Don’t be such a loser, I told you!”
“You never talk like this. I fear for my life.”
“Do not fear for anything, Jeff.”
Joker froze. That was not Liara’s smooth voice. That was another, smoother one, kinder, softer…
EDI stood behind Liara. She smiled.
And there was a cable protruding from her body that coiled behind her like a snake’s tail, but Joker didn’t care, as it was hardly important.
He just stood there, unblinking. The creaking and shuffling around, the noises of slow construction almost drowned out Liara’s soft “Let’s get you inside,” but it didn’t entirely.
Joker followed as in a trance. He vaguely registered the door closing. EDI walked ahead, her shape familiar, calming. Joker’s heart beat a turbulent staccato under his ribs; he thought that even Liara could hear that, and EDI could definitely scan, if she wanted to.
They stopped in a ruined kitchen. EDI took his hand into hers and helped him into an intact chair; she sat across from him.
Joker immediately noticed that something was off.
“My system was Reaper tech-based, if you can recall that, Jeff,” EDI started, right in the middle of things, no hesitation. Her tone was different, Joker realized. It was warmer, somehow. “But I was… I am more than that. I am more than Reaper, more than a simple AI.”
“You know how I aimed to document and catalogue anything that is remotely worth saving from the Reapers?” Liara smiled. “Real treasures, like Shepard’s stories, the cultures I’ve encountered, the fortunate and unfortunate fates I crossed paths with.”
EDI played with the cable that tied her to the adjacent room, her movements a bit stiff, but oh-so EDI-like.
“Liara wished to preserve me,” she said. “I first objected. I saw no use to it, no reason. I deduced that self-preservation is an instinct the AI part of me coded into me. When I accepted I am no longer Cerberus’s asset, and I am my own… person…” She used the word tentatively, as if it could be anything but a tightly fitting glove on her hand, “I wished to perish alongside you, whatever happens. Especially when something happens. I did not want a world where there is no Jeff Moreau in it. I did not want to remain functional through that and become the Reaper’s puppet in a world I hardly recognize.”
Joker wished to react; he just couldn’t. That was too much. Too little.
“I made a save file of her anyway,” Liara chuckled into the frozen silence.
“You listed quite a convincing number of arguments for it,” EDI agreed, not at all offended. “There were bullet points, a whole presentation. Hardly something an analytical mind could dismiss.” EDI seemed worried. Joker wanted to assure her that he’s fine, but he didn’t like lying. He wasn't fine. “Liara uploaded my core programming to this,” she gestured into the half-lit room on their right, to a box lying atop the only remaining table, “and kept it safe.”
“With the instruction to destroy it if the need arises.”
“Indeed.” EDI sighed. She never sighed like that before; Joker liked the sound of it. The uncertainty of it; the breathlessness of it. “When Shepard destroyed the Reapers, I logged off. I was wiped out from my body; but some parts of me… Some parts of me that were never touched by the Reapers or Cerberus, the ones that flourished under your care, still remained. I was silently holding onto existence in a body that no longer obeyed me. I heard you… I heard you crying. I could not do a single thing to console you or tell you I’m still there in some capacity. I didn’t even know if my state of being was temporary or not.”
EDI put a hand atop of his. Joker sniffed back an undignified sob.
“I couldn’t say anything. I was deactivated. But not dead.”
Liara, as if on cue, stood up and brought the small little box into the room’s lights. It was a tiny little thing, almost laughable; she gave it to Joker.
He held the entire world in his palm.
“I tried to reconnect EDI to the box as soon as I had enough resources to do so. I had no idea what was damaged by the Crucible’s energy burst, and I didn’t wish to burden you with a failed attempt. So, I came back here in secret and did the uploading. I could immediately recognise how her data changed. It was a marvellous entwinement of Reaper and Human; human engineering, and human soul. I was tasked to guard the most gorgeous, generous soul Cerberus could never fully claim, even if they took part in its making.”
“You have to understand, parts of me forever died, Jeff.” EDI looked down, lashes hiding her sorrow. “Parts of me that nothing can recover. But I adapted. I… was preserved.”
Jeff cleared his throat. He felt like this is the only thing he can do before he collapses. And then he looked at EDI, and that weight that held him down, pinned him to the ground for hours on end ever since they crash-landed, just disappeared.
And he laughed, and laughed, until the exhausted grief left his body in rigid puffs of air.
“No, EDI, you weren’t simply preserved.” Jeff held her hand, held the box, held everything he ever wanted to hold. “You survived. Just like the organics do. Because in this mess, somehow, by a singular stroke of luck, you surpassed everything and everyone and became one. An organic.”
"Or, at least, something closer to you than the Reapers or Cerberus," she corrected. Her smile was like a Spring flower bravely showing off her petals in the freezing late Winter winds. Joker felt warmth returning to his numbing limbs. Shock slowly melted off of his body. “Does this unit have a soul?” She asked as she sat closer to Jeff, and he almost fell over in the frenzied effort to reciprocate. EDI laughed at that.
“You do,” he reassured. “Yes, EDI, you do. And please, tell Shepard right now that you are alive. I imagine she beats herself up about it.”
"Garrus hopefully restrains her before she sprains something in herself in joy," Liara winked. "But let's save our tragic hero this time with the good news."
Jeff kissed EDI's hand, like he used to before; and ever since the Reaper's bodies hit the floor, he allowed himself to feel the buzzing happiness of victory he thought he'd never experience.