Legion nodded once to Tali. It had half expected a more emotional response; not a direct outburst, but something more substantial than a sigh. It had grown used to anger at its existence, and most interactions with its Creators ended poorly for both parties. Legion needed to stop attempting to predict everyone’s reactions or outcome for their actions. It couldn’t reduce organics to numbers. They were too free, too limitless. Too independent. Too many variables.
But Tali’s reaction, however small, provoked a greater trust within Legion and the geth. It emerged from its corner only to pad along after Tali. “Creator Tali'Zorah, will you be returning to the Migrant Fleet?” it asked.
There was most certainly a more emotional response boiling up inside of her but by now Tali’d come to the conclusion that such things were better saved for more private occasions. Granted those were sparse on the Normandy, and after she returned to the fleet they’d likely become even more so, but still. There was no sense in an emotional outburst in front of everyone. At least, not over something you can’t change. Besides, no one was dying this time at least. They’d stay in touch. Hopefully.
Her train of thought and introspection was derailed at Legon’s question. Absentmindedly she nodded to him, forgetting for a few moments just what she was talking to. “Yes I suppose I will. Someone needs to warn them about what’s coming and try to keep them on track.” It was right about now she realized she once again remembered this was a geth she was talking to and looked at him. “Are you going to return to Rannoch?”
