#thehappyexistentialist

But the message stops him in place, because it says:

Hello— I hope I have the right address. Commander Shepard gave it to me. She said you were an old friend of hers interested in talking about AI tech. Since you were her friend, I would also like to say I am sorry. Shepard was a dear friend to me, and I will miss her greatly.

Tali’Zorah vas Neema

It’s a quarian name. Shepard’s quarian crew member. Expert in AI systems and ship engines, and a wizard with her omni-tool. Donnie remembers Shepard talking about her, her eyes softening with a distant fondness. It doesn’t take him long to send a reply.

Hey! Yes, you’ve got the right person. Thanks. We’re all missing her around here, too, so I know what you mean. Shepard had spoken highly of you. I hope you’re holding up all right? Vas Neema is a new name, isn’t it?

He doesn’t get a reply for a few days, and he almost puts the message out of his mind. Maybe she’ll write back, maybe she won’t. She probably has other things to do than write messages to a stranger.

He does get a reply a few days later, though:

Shepard spoke of me? I hadn’t expected that. But yes, I’m well, thank you for asking. It was a long trip back to the Migrant Fleet, and the Neema is my new ship. It’s a bit of a process to join a new crew, but I won’t bore you with the details. I’m here now, it’s just been an adjustment. There are a lot of new responsibilities with being a fully adult crew member! But Shepard said you were interested in AI. Was there anything in particular you wanted to know? It’s a very dangerous line of research, of course, but it’s been a bit of a specialty of mine.

Donnie casts an eye at Metalhead in the corner, quietly running projections based on the data Shepard had collected about the Reapers. There’s no way he’s going to confess to having developed an actual functioning AI in a fit of youthful hubris, nor to having repaired and refurbished said AI in another fit of somewhat less youthful stubbornness. Never mind that Metalhead is a perfectly sane AI unlikely to go off on a murder spree; that’s the sort of thing that gets a person in serious trouble.

Yes, I work with complex VI systems, he writes, so I’m interested in safety protocols and how far that complexity can develop before you run the risk of generating a true AI. I’ve always found the quarian experiments with geth interesting in that respect. Congratulations on the new post, by the way; it doesn’t sound boring at all.

Another few days pass before she replies. She apologizes for the delay, explaining that she’s been adjusting to the schedule on her new ship and her new duties. She then gets into a discussion of AI development that starts out full of cautions before she loosens up and really starts going into detail. It’s sufficiently absorbing that Donnie doesn’t even notice April coming into the room until she’s leaning over his shoulder, her warm, fragrant hair brushing against his neck. “What’s this?” she says.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” Donnie says.

April leans over, peering at the screen. “AI tech?”

“Yeah, it’s, um. It’s Tali, from Shepard’s crew. She wrote me a message a couple of weeks ago. I guess Shepard did pass on my contact info.”

“Oh.” April puts a hand on his shoulder, and they’re both silent for a moment. Then April says, “I saw her at the memorial. She seemed pretty upset.”

“Yeah, I think Shepard was really important to her,” Donnie says. “But she’s been really busy since she got back to her people. Sounds like she’s taken on a lot of responsibilities. You, um—” He twists a little so he can see April’s face. “You don’t mind, right?”

“Why would I mind?” April asks. “This AI stuff is really fascinating.”

His brothers mind, a few months later, when Donnie finally finishes putting together a combat drone, loads up some automatic protocols, and lets it drift around the lair. It’s all non-lethal shocks, of course, and it is totally not Donnie’s fault that Raph finds it necessary to threaten the rest of them so often and therefore gets zapped more than the rest of them put together.

He’s genuinely sorry that Mikey is convinced the drone is going for his eyes, though.

“It’s just an experiment,” Donnie protests when an irritated Leonardo stalks into the lab. “A lot of armed forces use combat drones, so I thought it would be worth playing with.”

Leo has that skeptical narrow-eyed look. “Do you really want to be trying to manage one of these in a fight?”

“That’s why I have it running on an automatic program. I don’t have to micromanage it.” Donnie tries for a smile. “I’m, ah, sorry about the shocks, though. I can reprogram it.”

He’s bracing for another round of Leo’s periodic opposition to anything more modern than pieces of steel and wood, but Leo says thoughtfully, “You might be right that it’s worth a try. Why don’t you reprogram it and then we can spar with it.” He smiles. “You and the drone against the rest of us.”

Donnie groans. He should have seen this coming. “You’re a sadist.”

“It’s a good training opportunity,” Leo says, cheerful now.

“It’ll take me a few days to set up a new program,” Donnie hedges. It won’t actually take him that long, but in a few days, Raph will have cooled off. Mostly.

“Let me know when you’ve got it ready,” Leo says, turning to leave, and then hesitates. “You got this drone stuff from your quarian friend, right?”

“Yeah,” Donnie says. “I can’t say too much about the AI stuff, obviously, and she’s been a little cagey about her research, too.” Tali’s messages are getting further apart, and in fact he hasn’t heard from her for almost three weeks, this time. It sounds like she’s been detailed on various trips away from the quarian fleet that she doesn’t talk too much about.”

Leo nods. “You haven’t told her... um...”

Donnie rolls his eyes. “Give me some credit, Leo. Of course I haven’t told her much. She thinks I worked with Shepard on her early missions and retired from the Alliance a few years ago. She also thinks I’m human, because what else would she think?”

“Right.” Leo has the grace to look a little abashed. “Sorry. I just—”

“I know,” Donnie says.

It hadn’t even come up until they were well into their correspondence. Tali had said, one day a month or two in: Shepard hardly told me anything about you. Donnie had thought about ignoring the implicit question, but he’d broken out some lies and half-truths instead. There’s absolutely no reason for Tali to suspect anything like the truth, and it’s clear Shepard hadn’t let anything slip to her, either. It’s the same old story as always, sticking to the shadows. Their friends come to them either carefully hand-picked, or by accident. Tali’s one of the former, sort of, but there’s no real need to tell her the whole truth. She knows who Donnie is, but not what he is.

“I did mention I live with my brothers,” he says, trying to be conscientious about Leo’s security worries. “She just said that sounded nice. She’s an only child. I think we could trust her if we had to, but I’m being careful.”

Leo nods, looking relieved. “Okay. Thanks.”

The smell of popcorn wafts through the lair, and Mikey sticks his head in the door a moment later. “Dudes. Did you forget movie night?”

“Sorry about the drone, Mikey,” Donnie says, getting off his stool.

Mikey shrugs. “Nah, it’s okay bro, just... don’t let it go for the eyes, okay?”