Ship Outta Luck, cont'd

enhancedintel:

pilotjeffmoreau:

enhancedintel:

There was no suppressing the small grin that fell over her face when she received the message.  And on the day that the hull breaches were fixed up and Normandy was declared spaceworthy once again.  This was likely what some religious-minded humans called providence.

EDI shifted in her chair, her processes mulling over the logistics of getting the crew back together.  She’d been monitoring communications channels; she knew they were beginning to come together as resources and circumstance allowed.  So long as Jeff was agreeable — it was quite probable that he would be — they may take the opportunity to at least do a round of visits.

She leaned over her communications terminal, sending a text message this time:

“I am well. It would be beneficial for us if we were to attempt to intercept the other crew members.  When you return to the ship, shall we discuss the particulars?
Also, I have put in a requisition order for cherry lollipops to further aid your recovery.”

Joker stares at the reply for a moment, evaluating whether she had actually ordered lollipops or if her humor processes were finally working at better capacity than they had previously been. Either way, he’s pretty reassured the Alliance wouldn’t go for such a requis— they actually would, wouldn’t they. They did have a tendency to put in trivial things while forgetting actual components of the ship; which usually Shepard would have to go around and find. They installed a poker table, yet not the thermal pipes to make sure the engines didn’t explode on someone during maintenance. Morale was clearly priority.

Anyways, he couldn’t really complain since they let him keep his leather chair. It was his only morale booster aside from his co-pilot, which he was currently separated from. 

“Good to know you’re well. Worried you might have gotten some dents or even some scratched paint. If you want to pick me up so I can finally get back in you”

Pauses. Decides this would seem weird out of context to an outside viewer, which he couldn’t shake the feeling was always around, and rewords it. Anyways.

“the ship, then we’ll start getting the band back together. Again. Again. … Again. We really should keep up with having everyone together more often. I’ll send you my coordinates for pick-up.”

The coordinates came through just as the engineers took their leave after touching up the paint on the outside of the hull.  EDI took a moment to ensure that the repairs were appropriately logged, and then, finally, now that there were no newcomers on board (just the skeleton crew who knew full well what she was), she left her seat to survey the work.  She kept half her processes fully committed to undocking the Normandy from the service bay, while her mobile platform — her self, for lack of a better word — walked purposefully to the elevator and down to the engineering deck.

She picked up traces of acetylene in the air, and she could see the relatively fresh welds and rivets, shiny streaks against the well-aged remainder of the hull, but other than that, there was little evidence anything had ever happened.  And there were no loose screws that she could detect.

Adams was at his console, and he gave her a cursory wave as he caught sight of her.

“Where to now?” he asked, entering a series of diagnostic commands.  EDI felt … glad that the small remnants of the crew still appeared committed to their jobs.

“We retrieve our pilot,” she replied, taking position at the console behind him and to  the left, “and then we will figure out where the others have gone.”

“You don’t waste time, do you?”

“If it would make you feel better, Engineer Adams, I could modify a subroutine devoted solely to what is colloquially known as slacking off.”  Beat.  ”That was —”  She turned to face him, the corner of her lips turned upward in what could be called a shit-eating grin.

He laughed.  ”I know, I know.” 

“My comedy is losing its spontaneity,” she mused, still smiling as she entered in a new message to Jeff:

“Ship is cleared and certified.  We are en route now and will send the shuttle your way.  It will be —”

She hesitated, and she wasn’t entirely sure why.

“— good to see you again.” 

“Great. Wish I could listen to some music while you leave me on hold. I’ll just wait until some strangers try getting me in their shuttle promising me lollipops, then.”

Joker took a seat on some pieces of rubble in the middle of the chaos that was London. Some people were gathered around various areas, trying to help move some of it out of the way or just even chewing the shit; mostly not even about what just happened. He did like to pretend they were praising his great abilities during the assault against the Reapers, however, despite no one really taking notice of him. He thought of where they could put the statue of himself, finding many areas of interest to not be big enough to put a decent one in.

He sat for a few moments thinking about this, then sighed, finally taking in the actuality of his surroundings, adding a new message.

“It’ll be good to see you, too.”

Then he waited for the shuttle to finally show up. This only lead to more exaggerated thoughts. For one, he wondered if they could somehow add some neon to the shuttle. And a fish tank, so the Commander didn’t have to worry about them somehow dying after one mission. He didn’t really care, considering he didn’t have to personally worry about piloting the shuttle. It would have probably amused him more to have to have the rest of the crew always picked up in a hot pink shuttle with a flaming unicorn on the front of it.

And it was this thought that would probably stick with him until the real shuttle showed up as a disappointment.