I always enjoyed space. It was beautiful, fascinating, inspiring to me. On Earth, I would always watch the Alliance soldiers pass by on the streets, their ships taking off and disappearing through the atmosphere. I always vowed to do better for myself. Growing up on the streets of New York city was tough. The Reds being the only option for a homeless little girl, they became a family of a different kind. But it wasn't a life I wanted, gang life wasn't really a life at all, just a means of survival. At eighteen, I enlisted with the Alliance, shipped off world almost immediately when I told them I was a biotic. I remember the feeling of entering space for the first time, it was exhilarating. The feeling of complete weightlessness, the gentle hums of the ships engine, I fell in love with everything the Alliance had to offer.
This though? Nothing could compare to this. I looked down at Alchera, it's beautiful, blue haze adding an even more calming aura to the soundless depths of space. It seemed surreal, the peace I felt, even with the pieces of the Normandy floating around me. It was like all the weight I felt chasing down Saren, fighting the Council, the Reapers, was all gone. I felt content with everything I was leaving behind. We stopped Saren, we did all we could to get the Council to believe in the Reapers. There was nothing more for me to do. Saving Elysium, stopping Saren, thats all I was meant to do and now it was my time. I slowly spun around, seeing the multiple escape pods floating away from the wreckage.
They made it. They're alive, that's all that matters. A sharp snap, and a loud drawn out hiss caused me to reach back instinctively. Oxygen depleting rapidly. 30 seconds of remaining oxygen, the automated warning sounded in my helmet. My throat constricted with anxiety and fear. This is it, it's really it. Why did it feel so cold? And where is the light? Just like Benezia said, what they always said. There was suppose to be a light. My vision blurred as black spots took over. No light, not even a shimmer, or a flash of my life. Just a feeling of engulfing blackness.
My body began to spasm, lacking proper circulation of oxygen, twirling in the weightlessness of space. I feel broken, empty. Theres no pain, just a cold, chilling emptiness that is creeping slowly through my body. It's peaceful, yet dangerous. Exhilarating, yet calming. Scary, but oddly comforting all at once. I closed my eyelids, the last physical feeling, accepting my fate.
Out of breath, I am hoping someday, I'll breathe again.
A beeping steadily climbing and becoming more sharp and cacophonous. My eyelids slowly opened, adjusting to the bright lights above my head. "... Showing an awareness of outside stimuli." a voice mumbled. It was rough, ragged. "My god, Miranda, I think she's waking up." the voice continued, sounding frantic, but excited. What was he talking about? Where am I? Why does my body feel so lethargic? I tried to move, but it felt like trying to move through quicksand. I managed to lift my arm, reaching out to something, anything to grasp in order to pull myself up. "Damnit, Wilson, give her another sedative! Shes not ready!" another voice said.
This one was beautiful, angelic more like. It was soft, yet strong, determined, and held an air of authority. "Shepard, don't try to move, try to stay calm." the soothing voice said. I felt a cold hand grasp mine. It felt… weird. Shocking, almost alien on my skin, but not in a bad way. It was gentle, anchoring me to this new realm that seemed so surreal. I turned my head in the direction the touch came. A raven-haired woman with striking icy blue eyes came into view. Her face was soft when our eyes connected, speaking of safety and home. The beeping slowed, returning to a gentle hum. "Stats returning to normal. That was close." the ragged voice, Wilson, interrupted.
Those blue eyes turned sharp, angry, and turned to the man in the room that I could not see. "I told you your numbers were off. Run them again!" she demanded with a practiced, cold demeanor. She turned back to me, her grip on my hand tightening in reassurance. Her worried eyes focusing on mine. "It's alright, Shepard." she said softly, "It's going to be alright." My vision blurred once more, my body feeling heavier by the second. "Don't fight it." she continued. I relaxed, allowing my body to be taken by the sedatives. And once more, darkness engulfed me. But this one felt safer, with the cold hand grasping mine, reminding me that I'm not alone.
All I have, all I need, she's the air I would kill to breathe.
"Shepard, get out of that bed! This facility is under attack!" My eyes shot open, pain coursing through every ounce of my being. "Shepard, your scars aren't healed yet, but I need you to get out of that bed!" the same angelic voice shouted frantically over the loudspeaker. "There's a pistol in the locker on the far side of the room, grab it and go!" I sat up, holding the stitch in my side from the movement. Gritting my teeth, I stood on unsteady legs, willing my body to move despite the pain. I could hear distant explosions and gunfire. I looked around, spotting the locker immediately.
I moved as fast as my body allowed, grabbing the M-6 Carnifex. "What the hell is going on?" I asked in a hoarse voice, grimacing at the pain and rough sound of my voice. "I know this is a lot, Shepard, and you probably have a lot of questions, but you need to trust me. My name is Miranda, you need to make your way to the shuttle station. The-s not a lot of ti-me, hu-rr-y!" the comm. stuttered and broke up before completely dying out. "Great," I mumbled roughly. I moved out of the room tentatively, my cautious military training kicking back in instantly even though my body felt as though it hadn't moved for years.
The longer I moved, the better I felt, though everything still felt stiff and raw. I came across a few hologram recordings of Miranda and this so called "Lazarus Project". From what I was able to gather, her focus with this project was on me entirely, on my "reconstruction". As I ventured further in the data and recordings, I only became more confused and had more questions than answered. Guess I should just get to Miranda first. I thought as I followed the sounds of gunfire to an open balcony where a man was fighting mechs from another adjacent balcony. I fired three shots, one for each mechs head.
The man rose and turned to me, "Damn, things must be bad if Miranda's got you up and running around." he said, approaching me. I eyed him cautiously, "Who the hell are you?" I asked, a little more heatedly than I had meant. "Right, this is all new to you. I'm Jacob, head of security, friend of Miranda's." he outstretched his hand. I simply stared at it, not trusting the familiar looking emblem on his chest. "How do we get to the shuttle station?" I asked, turning on my heels, keeping a firm grip on my pistol.
Open up next to you, and my secrets become your truth, and the distance
between that was sheltering me comes in full view.
"That your idea of due process?" I asked sarcastically as I aimed my gun at the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. I remember her from when I woke up the first time, but she was finally in my full view now, in all her glory. She shot Wilson for his betrayal, I raised my gun instinctively, readily aware that this woman was just as deadly as she was beautiful.
"Wilson betrayed us. He killed my staff and tried to kill me. He would of tried to kill you next." she said in her intoxicating accent. "I had a feeling he was just waiting to shoot me in the back." I said, lowering my gun, not taking my eyes off her for more than one reason. "Good instincts," she said, reloading her pistol with a fresh thermal clip. "Still, did he deserve that welcome?" Jacob chimed in. Miranda rolled her eyes, "Come on, lets get off this bloody station." she turned, her heels clicking in a determined stride towards the waiting shuttle. I couldn't help my eyes lingering on her swaying hips.
"Wait! What about survivors, shouldn't we look?" I called after her. She turned her head, not breaking her strut and said in a detached voice, "If they aren't here, they aren't coming. If you wish to stay on this station, be my guest." she turned back, waving a dismissive hand as she climbed into the shuttle. I looked to Jacob, who merely shrugged, before following suit. I sighed heavily, forcing my aching body to move forward.
Hang my head, break my heart built from all I have torn apart,
and my burden to bear
I held still while she scanned my body, checking for any anomalies or defects. "There really are more tests we should run…" she said, her eyes focused on her omni-tool. "Come on, Miranda. Her memory is intact and I can vouch for her physical abilities first hand." I stared at my feet, resting my elbows on my knees while the two Cerberus operatives bickered back and forth. I felt completely drained. Two years? I've been gone for two years? Why couldn't they just let me go?
They brought me back from the dead for what? To bring up my past failures, hardships, and demons? My heart ached in more ways than one now after Miranda's incessant questioning about my childhood on Earth and Kaidans demise on Virmire, my decision to sacrifice human lives to save the Council that never did anything in return.
When silence filled the shuttle, I hung my head and asked quietly, "What do you want from me?" It was almost too quiet, until Miranda questioned "What?" in an exasperated tone. I lifted my head, staring deep into her cold, blue eyes. "What do you want from me?" I repeated in a broken voice. Jacob shifted uncomfortably while Miranda and I held each others gaze.
"You can ask the Illusive Man when you speak with him." she replied after a while, shifting her gaze back to her omni-tool. I stared blankly at her for a moment. This is not the same woman who comforted me upon waking up. This woman was too cold, calculating, to be the soft, reassuring one who made me feel safe for the first time in a long time. I turned to look out the shuttles window. Feeling more alone in this galaxy than ever before.
It hurts to be here, I only wanted love from you
It hurts to be here, what am I gonna do?
The lyrics are from Breathe Again - Sara Bareilles, roughly. I changed one word or skipped some of the lyrics to fit the story.
Please review, let me know what I should fix or if you like the story, I'll continue it.
And no, not all the chapters will have lyrics or something like that. If a song inspires me though, I may use it, like this chapter.