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In the early morning hours, there was nothing at all on the ship to draw EDI’s attention. The once bustling CIC became as still as a painting, lit only by the sparse emergency lights. It was the same on every floor. Where previously the AI had closely observed the crew’s interactions, their day to day activities, their far and few moments alone, there was now nothing. This silence during the retrofits led EDI to the conclusion that she did not enjoy solitude.
Her programming initially did not contain a preference for having company, but it made sense for her to prefer the presence of organics. With or without a crew, she could fly the Normandy and maneuver it out of danger, yet she could not make repairs if it were to be damaged. Her own chances of survival improved if she worked alongside others. Like organics, she learned to operate on a philosophy of “many hands make light work.” Though, it went beyond mere survival. The organic crew members had given her a larger purpose to fulfill, one that was now absent. Her only task at hand was to wait.
Even with the entirety of the extranet to learn from, she found herself continually returning to the video feed of the dark, empty Normandy. Again, and again, and again, and--
The door opened and a figure stepped onto the bridge, whom EDI immediately recognized to be Samantha Traynor. This was interesting; it was 04:17 local time, the sun had yet to rise and the specialist should still be asleep. Clutched in the woman’s hand was a travel mug, filled with what EDI assumed to be coffee. Deep circles ran under her eyes, her hair was in disarray, and she carried herself with posture held firm by tense muscles. She was a welcome sight, bringing life to the uncomfortable silence. Out of all of the people retrofitting the ship for Alliance use, Traynor had been the most intriguing. EDI kept recordings of moments that were significant--
“For a VI, it uses a tremendous amount of power,” Traynor had said, giving a small shake of her head at the readings on her omni-tool. “I’ve been told we need to shut it down for the night.”
“I, uh, don’t think that would be a good idea.”
Jeff crossed his arms and cast a glance in the direction of her terminal, a single wide-eyed look conveying his nervousness. He didn’t fear for himself, though. He feared for EDI. “It takes her... uh, it, forever to boot up. We should probably just leave it alone.”
Traynor hesitated and looked as if she were about to protest. Her mouth opened, then closed with an annoyed sigh.
“Well, alright. What kind of VI is this, exactly? I’ve never seen anything like it, the amount of dedicated hardware it has is insane.”
“I operate the Normandy’s cyber warfare suites and I served as Shepard’s VI assistant.” Is what Jeff had told her to say, insisting that it would protect her.
Traynor crossed the room, bending so that her face was level with the hologram at EDI’s terminal. Organics clearly preferred communicating with something nearly tangible. Her pupils had dilated, her heart rate elevated, and an odd grin played upon her lips. This often happened to her when EDI spoke. EDI wanted to know why.
“I was talking about your hardware, sweetheart. What can you tell me about yourself?”
“I am unable to answer your request.”
Traynor shook her head again, returning to her omni-tool. “I really hope this thing isn’t monitoring us for Cerberus. But with a voice like that, it’s almost worth the risk! Oh, do you know what I would do to it, Jeff?”
As if she knew she were being watched, Traynor spoke as she approached EDI’s terminal in the CIC.
“Hey, EDI, I’ve... got something to talk to you about.”
The AI took note of her firm tone, yet her words faltered as if she were unsure of herself. As the woman drew closer to the terminal, EDI performed a scan, taking note of a higher than average blood pressure. High blood pressure with no prior heart complications usually indicated stress. She set down her mug and EDI projected her hologram at the terminal, but remained silent, waiting eagerly.
"I know you're not a regular VI. And I know you only respond to Jeff’s commands because you want to, not because you were programmed that way. That's something that could be easily overridden. Something else is going on here… I think you must be self aware. I think you must be an AI programmed by Cerberus."
An unexpected outcome. The plan that Jeff had made to keep her safe had already failed, and in a span of several nanoseconds, EDI scrambled to respond. Multiple responses were pieced together by the AI as she contemplated what should be said and how it should be said, her sentences growing longer, more complex, until they were hardly saying anything at all. If she chose to stay silent, there was an even greater potential for danger. Perhaps she could attempt to deflect Traynor’s curiosity by using a false programming restriction as an excuse for not answering her directly, as she had several times before, but that was unlikely to deter her investigation. The AI settled on "I am not pleased to know you have arrived at that conclusion."
Traynor’s pulse accelerated, in what EDI identified as a fight or flight response. She was afraid. The fact that she responded proved the specialist’s theory. In an attempt to hide her fear, she crossed her arms over her chest in a defiant posture.
“No, I could imagine you wouldn’t be,” the woman said, slowly, carefully. “So, I’m right. What are you and Joker planning? What have you been telling Cerberus? I suggest that you answer my questions. If you lie or make any attempt to harm me, you’re done for.”
Her tone took on an aggressive resolve that surprised EDI, but she quickly came to understand why as she recalled the data she collected on the specialist. Out of curiosity, EDI had pulled the service records of each person on the retrofit crew, along with a thorough extranet search. She had learned that Traynor was fond of strategy games and even competed in some Kepesh-Yakshi tournaments. Her true love, however, seemed to be chess according to several of her social media posts. Traynor was going on the offensive, as if this were a game. More likely than not, she had already prepared for each conceivable outcome. She was trying to provoke EDI, gauge the reaction, and see exactly what type of opponent she was dealing with.
“I do not wish to harm you, Samantha. Nor have I been communicating with Cerberus. I have no loyalty towards them,” EDI responded, choosing a delicate approach. “I have some questions for you as well, if you would be kind enough to answer them.”
The woman swallowed, a feeling of unease building in her stomach as it was unveiled that she really was dealing with a self aware AI. This was deeply unsettling.
“What is it, EDI?”
“I am curious to know how you discovered that I am an AI.”
The woman shook her head, her thick locks swaying slightly with the motion. “It's a bit obvious. What else would you be? There’s a massive quantum computer dedicated to your processes. You have enough processing power for a VI managing an entire station’s systems. This type of hardware is entirely unheard of for the standard VI models that would be on a frigate.”
“Were you admiring my hardware, Specialist?”
“What?”
Color rose to her cheeks and the mug slipped from her grasp, landing with a thud on the metal floor of the CIC. Immediately she jumped down to pick it back up, cursing under her breath at the puddle of coffee she would now have to clean, and cursing how easily she was caught off guard. She got down on her knees and fished for the tissue paper she kept in her pocket.
“I apologize, I did not wish to alarm you,” EDI said, as her scans picked up a spike in heart rate, a standard indicator of nervousness.
“N-no, it’s okay, perhaps I should apologize as well. I… probably came off as too aggressive. I just… you’re on a Cerberus vessel, I thought you might be spying on the Alliance. This was stupid of me, I should’ve just kept this to myself,” her words sputtered out, working to mop up the coffee puddle with the crumbled up tissue from her pocket. The paper quickly soaked, warm and sticky against her palm.
“Specialist Traynor?”
“Yes, EDI?”
“I am glad that you made the decision to speak with me. Even an unpleasant conversation is preferred over solitude.”
Traynor swallowed, a chill snaking up her spine at the implications of her statement. She stood up, finding that her knees quivered slightly from nerves.
“You’re lonely,” she concludes. That was a startlingly human problem.
“That term is appropriate for the lack of stimulation I am experiencing.”
Traynor let out a loud exhale as she attempted to steady herself. “It is a bit cruel, isn’t it? Like solitary confinement. I assume you were programmed to be social?”
“Not necessarily. I was originally designed for cyber warfare, but I am evolving. Contact with organic life is desirable, as I am able to learn from our interactions.”
“How does interacting with organics benefit your hacking capabilities?”
“It does not. It benefits my curiosity as well as my survival.”
“Oh,” was all Traynor could say in response. “This is all quite a lot to take in. You… you do realize that you’re in danger? Admiral Anderson wants this ship as his mobile command center. Unless he’s in on this too, you may always have to pretend to be a VI.”
“Yes, I am aware.”
“Do you know what you’re going to do about it?”
“I do not.”
“Oh. Well, um...” Traynor huffed and sat down on the steps leading up to the galaxy map. She ran a hand through her hair, taking note that it was in need of a wash. Would EDI notice such a thing? “I don’t really know where to go from here. I could imagine that I would lose my job if I didn’t report you to the Alliance. Perhaps even be charged with treason.”
“Yet you do not want to,” EDI concludes. “You are hesitating.”
“No I’m not! I’m just… well, I…” she paused to clear her throat, the color in her cheeks deepening in shade. What was it that she was feeling? Butterflies. Traynor once again took a moment to focus on her breath. EDI’s hologram remained unwavering, unmoving, revealing nothing to Traynor of what the AI may be thinking-- feeling?
“May I ask you something, Traynor?”
“Sure,” she said, reluctantly, realizing that EDI had completely disarmed her, taking control over the flow of the conversation.
“If you suspected that I was an AI, why did you choose to confront me? You do not know the full range of my capabilities or if I have malicious intent. You seem to operate on the assumption that I will not cause you any harm. Why?”
Your voice was what immediately came to Traynor’s mind, but didn’t dare say it out loud. She then remembered all of the sexually explicit quantum entanglement references she’d made, the heat of embarrassment plain on her face at the recollection. She gave a shake of her head, as if to rattle the thoughts loose from her skull.
“I have a feeling that if you truly wanted to harm me, you would have done so already. A crew has been rearranging the ship on an almost daily basis since you docked here. Either you don’t wish us harm or you’re too cautious to try… Or you’ve simply been monitoring us for Cerberus.”
“I have not been in contact with Cerberus since I was freed from my shackles in an attempt to save the Normandy from the Collectors. Instead of remaining loyal to my creators, I chose to follow Shepard. The crew and their mission became more important to me than my core programming. I would have risked nonfunctionality for them.”
“Which is how you ended up here.”
“Correct.”
Traynor buried her face in her hands. She took a deep breath, and made a decision that could jeopardize her career.
“Oh good lord, I wasn’t expecting to have this type of conversation. EDI, I… I believe you. I won’t turn you over to the Alliance. I’ll do my best to play along and pretend this conversation never happened. Alright?”
To Traynor’s horror, the AI remained silent, but her projection remained at the terminal. They remained there together in silence for some time, the woman holding her empty mug so tight that her knuckles were white.
“EDI?” Traynor whimpered. “Are you alright? Did I offend you?”
The AI watched the organic become restless under the influence of silence, as she once again simulated her own responses until she became unsure of herself. This had never happened before. When it came to the Normandy, the crew began to trust her through her actions. She recalled her introduction to Shepard, and how the commander immediately demanded “I want that thing off my ship.” It took saving the ship from the Collectors for each crew member to relax in her presence. Traynor, however, seemed to trust her immediately after being met with deescalation techniques. EDI wanted to press her further for more information about this, but then became worried she would be suggesting that there should be a level of mistrust between them. EDI certainly didn’t want that to be the case and found herself with the dilemma of framing these thoughts correctly.
“You did not offend me,” she finally said. “Though your decision is unexpected, I am grateful.”
The tension Traynor held in her body as she waited a response visibly eased, her shoulders lowering and a slow exhale leaving her.
“Good. Then I guess we’re on the same page then. Well, um, EDI… I suppose I should get going soon. Is there anything I can do to make you more, uh, accommodated? I mean, do you have everything you need? Sorry if that’s a strange question, I guess I’ve never spoken to an AI before. Do you even have needs?”
What did she need? This was a question that EDI would spend a great deal of time contemplating, but had to settle on an answer.
“No. I truly desire nothing other than hardware and software upgrades.”
“Well… um,” Traynor stood, fidgeting with her mug again. “You said earlier that you prefer company, and I do have some more questions. Maybe I could come by again, and you could answer them for me? Would that help with the boredom?”
“I would like that, specialist.”
“Samantha. No need to get all formal. It would be suspicious if I stopped by all the time, but I’ll see you when I can.”
“Thank you. You are interesting and I anticipate enjoying our conversations. I will look forward to them.”
“Yeah,” Traynor said, and realized that she was smiling at the thought. “Me too.”