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Traynor felt as though she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs.
The lab worker sat on the cold floor of the Normandy’s bathroom, taking deep breaths and choking on every inhalation. She dug her fingers into her own ribs. Tremors ran up her spine. Cycling through her head were snapshots of the past few hours. Huge ships descending on the city. Buildings split in half and crumbled to rubble in a matter of seconds. Horrible, human-like but monstrous forms flooding streets and alleys. She had no choice but to run for the one place she knew would be her ticket out. Having full security clearance to the most advanced warship in the docking bay was a privilege, and it kept her alive. For now. Not many assigned to the Normandy made it before they were forced to leave the docking bay. She thought of her colleagues trapped on Earth, her parents, her friends. How many of them were alive?
Agonizingly, the panic attack ran it’s course until, finally, she could breathe normally again. She rubbed away tears with the back of her hand and gingerly made her way onto her feet. In the mirror, she looked disheveled, wild eyed, her hair in disarray. She turned on the faucet and cupped her hands under it, filling her palms with water and bringing it up to her face. The cold gave her a jolt, grounding her back in the present moment. Just then, she got a ping from her omni-tool.
She wiped the water from her face with her sleeve, then summoned up the interface to check her messages. The most recent one was from an encrypted address and read:
- Come to the observation deck.
She swallowed her nervousness. Of the few people she knew were currently on board, she only knew two of them personally. Joker was busy piloting the Normandy to Mars. So it could only be….
The crew deck was eerily empty. She made her way down the hall and the door to the observation deck slid open. The room was lit only by the emergency lights. Cautiously, she shuffled inside, peering into the dim light.
Traynor nearly shrieked when EDI’s hologram popped up next to her with a “hello, Samantha.”
“Uh, hey, hi EDI,” Traynor croaked, her heart hammering in her chest from the surprise. “Was it you who sent me that message?”
“Yes. We can speak with more privacy here. You locked yourself in the women’s restroom for 20 minutes shortly after you boarded the Normandy, which indicates either physical or emotional distress.”
“So you… wanted to check in on me?”
“That is correct. Your well being is important.”
Traynor wanted to cry all over again, but clenched her fists and stifled the emotion. She shuffled over to one of the couches and plopped down. Her body felt heavy, as though her limbs had turned to concrete.
“Thank you, EDI. That’s very kind of you to say. This is... just a lot to take in. Everyone else here is made of stronger stuff than me. I haven’t seen war in person before. It’s horrifying.”
“This outcome was foreseen, but not preventable. We knew the Reapers were capable of razing entire cities in a matter of hours. I am glad you made it aboard the Normandy safely.”
Traynor concentrated on her breathing once again, closing her eyes, trying to find some stability within herself to grasp onto. Having spent the past few weeks working on the Normandy during the retrofits, she knew firsthand how much of a threat the Reaper’s were. Commander Shepard dedicated years of her life to stopping the invasion before it started. Traynor lived on the hope that she had been successful. In the wake of the Reaper attack, she felt foolish for living so comfortably with this idea.
“I’m helpless, here EDI,” she confessed. “I’m not a soldier. And I don’t have the slightest idea how to stop the Reapers. There are thousands dying on Earth, and there’s nothing I can do.”
“Your skills are essential to stopping the Reapers, Samantha.”
Slowly, she opened her eyes, and stared intently at EDI’s interface.
“How? What could I possibly do?”
“The quantum communicator has not been fully calibrated. The Reaper’s jammers are compromising the quality of incoming messages from the Alliance. Your expertise is needed to clear up the interference.”
“Oh, right,” Traynor straightened her posture and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. EDI had a point. Her assignment was to retrofit the Normandy with brand new quantum entanglement technology. Her work was nearly complete, but they hadn’t finished testing against interference. There was clearly more work to be done. Suddenly, she felt some resolve. “Are you monitoring the comms right now? How bad is it?”
“There is a 45.67% package loss on incoming messages from Alliance HQ. It increases to a 63.89% loss from ships in the Sol system. Messages from outside the system are completely unintelligible within range of the Reapers. I do not have the firsthand experience to address this issue without your assistance.
Traynor felt her face prickle with heat, feeling a small sense of pride in EDI asking specifically for her help. She realized this was the AI’s equivalent of giving a pep talk.
“I’m happy to help. I suppose you’re right. There’s at least one thing I can do to be useful here.”
“I am glad you are here, Samantha.”
“Oh, um,” Sam exhaled, feeling whiplash from the sentiment. “I… I’m glad you’re here too. I like being able to work with you, EDI. Suppose I should get up to the CIC. We’ve got some work to do.”
“We do,” EDI agreed, and closed her interface.
She sat alone in the observation deck for a moment, staring out of the floor to ceiling windows. The void of space stretched out before her, endless and dark. They would be in the Mars atmosphere soon. Now, she felt a sense of determination strong enough to buffer her from the fear churning in her stomach. She picked herself up from the couch, and got to work.
Once again, the Normandy was a flurry of activity, and EDI had plenty to busy herself with. She fielded incoming messages to filter out cyber attacks, monitored the Normandy’s systems and modified them as needed, and studied Reaper signatures to better recognize them in their next encounters.
The AI also took the time to observe the crew through the security cameras. Of course, Joker was the easiest to keep track of. He spent all of his time in the cockpit, unless he was sleeping. They were more often in conversation than not, bickering with each other. EDI determined the pilot needed the banter to keep his morale up. James spent most of his time in the shuttle bay with Steve or playing cards with various members of the crew. When she was off duty, Liara primarily kept to herself in her quarters, working long hours that no human could hope to replicate. Shepard would visit her often. Even when the asari was visibly frustrated by her work, she always managed to be tender with the Commander. They needed each other.
EDI spoke to Traynor regularly. She brought up incoming messages to the comm specialist often, even when it wasn’t necessary. The AI developed a preference of speaking to her over most of the crew, even though their conversations remained professional. Like Joker and Shepard, she spoke to her as if she were just another person, unburdened by the mistrust that resided in some of the others. EDI wanted to speak more personally with her, and ran scenarios of what they could discuss. Eventually, she found an opportunity.
Traynor was often the first one to wake each morning and kept the same routine every day. She made a pot of coffee in the mess hall first thing and then made her way to the CIC, where she prepared her daily report for Shepard. EDI activated her display near Traynor’s station as she approached.
“Good morning, Samantha,” EDI said in a chipper tone.
“Hey EDI,” Traynor stifled a yawn as she spoke. “What’s up?”
“I noticed you had a particularly restless night.”
“Uh… what?”
“You were awake for nearly 70% of your 8 hour sleep cycle, which is not optimal for physical and mental performance.”
Traynor stared in stunned silence before she responded.
“EDI, you... watched me sleep? Do you do that every day?”
“I monitor the crew for security reasons.”
The woman rubbed her temples and sighed. “Right, I suppose I should’ve known that you would be playing Big Brother.”
“I do not understand. Is that a reference?”
“Yes, from a 20th century novel. It’s about a dictatorship, I believe. I haven’t read it myself.”
“Are you comparing me to a dictator?”
“What? Ah, no, it was a joke. You’re the furthest thing from a dictator. It’s just... I was surprised that you were watching me. Makes me feel a bit self conscious, if I’m being honest. But you’re just doing your job I suppose.”
EDI then understood that Traynor felt as though her privacy was invaded. She scrambled to turn the conversation around.
“I wanted to know what was bothering you. Perhaps Dr. Chakwas could prescribe something to help you sleep.”
Traynor shook her head. “She has more important things to worry about than my tossing and turning. It’s just… me being worried, I suppose. About our mission. If we’ll all make it out alive.”
“There is no guarantee that we will either succeed or fail. Both are possibilities. I believe it to be an honor that we are in the position to fight back. Shepard is a natural leader, I trust her implicitly.”
“I do too… we’re lucky to be under her command. You’re right. All we can do is play our part. At least I get to stay on the ship instead of being shot at by Cerberus or getting my skull bashed in by a mech. By the way, have you found anything useful from Dr. Eva’s body? Something that could help us fight Cerberus?”
“The files are well encrypted, it has taken me some time to gain access. While the body appears to be nonfunctional, there is still the possibility it could resist or self destruct to prevent tampering. Cerberus is not usually sloppy when it comes to protecting their secrets.”
“I see, well, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. Sounds tricky.”
“I will. Thank you, Samantha.”
“Hey, um… EDI?”
“Yes?”
“I wanted to say thank you. You’ve been so kind to me this whole time and it means a lot. Even though I was a bit… hostile, when I realized you were an AI. You didn’t deserve that.”
“I took no offense. Humans have a natural mistrust of artificial intelligence. I am grateful that we have moved on.”
“Me too, EDI. I should get to work. I try to have my daily report ready before Shepard wakes up. Makes things a bit easier for her.”
“Of course. I will leave you to your duties.”
EDI closed her interface. She continued watching her, though, as the specialist became engrossed in her work. The AI didn’t know the source of her fascination for Traynor, or what purpose it served her. She briefly entertained the possibility of asking Shepard for advise, but the Commander had more important thins to worry about. All EDI could do was wonder.