Shepard had found a quiet corner away from the staff of Minutemen Station and was hunched over a desk, sketching furiously. His dossier had spoken of artistic talent, but it was another thing see it in action. The muscles of his shoulders were corded with tension as he put charcoal to paper. Chambers had suggested purchasing artistic supplies as a means of assuring him that Cerberus was not only madmen like Dr. Wayne, but that plan was smoke and ashes like the rest of Lazarus Station.

He looked up as she approached and Miranda fought the urge to take a step back. He had been an inert lump of flesh for over two years, and seeing life and intelligence in those blue eyes was still something of a shock. And there was intelligence there, however much the vids wanted to paint him as a mindless engine of destruction. Better to be wary. They were reluctant colleagues by necessity, but Alliance indoctrination meant he would see her as an enemy.

His lips formed a tight line. "Operative Lawson, I have a question for you." Doubt and the slightest hint of fear flickered across his face. "About the Lazarus Project."

Here it comes. It was only natural that he would have some questions about his resurrection. Dealing with the probable existential angst was part of the reason Chambers was assigned to the SR-2. Miranda had never been good at assuaging fears. Someone else was the shoulder her colleagues cried on. Her job was to make the impossible possible. As she had here. Take all those black box technologies Cerberus had recovered from Prothean ruins and elsewhere and raise a man from the dead. Well, here was her modern Lazarus, still frowning and with charcoal stains on his fingers. "Your memory should be intact, and your personality profile should be consistent with Alliance records. I can arrange for someone to administer the full battery of tests if you feel that's necessary."

"Thank you." He peered at her, and Miranda met his eyes. It wasn't lust in his gaze, or not mostly. "How did you do it?" He looked down at the scars on his hands. Orange light cut across his skin. "My skin must be artificial, but what about the rest of it? Implants?"

"Some, yes. Most of them were created using proprietary Cerberus technology. Yours was the first usage for many of them."

"So I'm the guinea pig?" Recognition dawned in his eyes. "Is that why the Illusive Man set this up? I tried to ask him, but all he did was tell me that I was 'unique' and 'a symbol.' But if I'm a convenient field test, then at least that makes sense."

"Testing the technology is one of the reasons we brought you back." Not the Illusive Man's reason, which was no clearer to Miranda than it apparently was to Shepard. It was her reason. What had been done for him could be done for others. "That skin is more resistant to cuts and repairs more quickly. You've already seen what the L5 implant we installed can do."

He nodded. "I see. And you said I'm still me. I…I feel like me. I remember Mindoir. I remember Sovereign. How? I mean, I died. The way Jacob talks, I was decomposing before you found me. How could you bring my mind back? I could almost understand if there was a greybox…"

"More proprietary tech. And your helmet ensured brain damage was minimal." Hopefully that would be enough. Miranda had tried to tell herself that there was no shame in using black box technology. They still didn't understand the relays despite the fact that they were the foundation of galactic civilization. This was no different, yet it made her uncomfortable.

"You don't understand it either. I can see it in your eyes." He paled slightly. "I never could stand a mystery. Could I look at your notes, if there are any left?"

They're classified. I doubt you would understand them anyway. But that he would ask at all… "You surprise me, Commander."

"Why? Because I'm curious about my own resurrection? Curiosity is an occupational necessity." He gestured at the paper. "It's my job to see the world as it really is. And that means knowing something about it. Or would you prefer I just brush you off and tell everyone who asks that I got better?"

"You want to bring light to the dark places?"

"If you want to put it that way. I want to find out the truth and tell it as best I can. Including about these disappearances. I was a colony kid. If the Council can't be bothered to look into this, then I will. And I'll work with the devil himself to do it, if I have to."

"We aren't the devil, Commander." And if he was telling the truth, then perhaps he could be more than a tool to be managed. Perhaps she could make him see that Cerberus also wanted to understand the world and make it better. "I'll redact those notes for you once we're back from Freedom's Progress."

"Thank you, Ms. Lawson. I hope all of us find what we're looking for."

"Likewise, Commander."