Invasion was the first ME comic I liked. Largely due to the portrayal of Oleg Petrovsky. He and Miranda represented what I thought Cerberus should have been. While I'd like to be optimistic about his appearance in the Omega DLC, I don't have much hope for him. So this is a pre-emptive fixfic for him as well as a fix for Miranda's onesided and infuriating characterization in ME3. The plot is my own and contains no spoilers for the DLC.
"Hostages only work if your enemy cares if they live." I'd told Kolyat Krios that a lifetime ago. It was what Balak had gotten wrong, what Vasir had gotten wrong. There was nothing more important than the mission. The ghosts of civilians might haunt me afterward, but every N7 was trained to make that call. But no amount of training could prepare me for Henry Lawson clutching my girlfriend's sister to him while leveling a Carnifax at my head.
"Excellent timing, Commander." Even now, his voice was smooth and honeyed. No wonder so many people had trusted him to provide them a haven from the Reapers. "I suppose I should thank you. Now that you and my wayward daughter have eliminated the husks, we have a way out."
"Put the gun down, Henry. Nobody else needs to die today." I looked at Miranda out of the corner of my eye. She sat crumpled against a desk, and blood stood out starkly against the white of her jacket. The part of me that was plain, ordinary Christopher just wanted to run to her and make sure she was okay. But Commander Shepard couldn't afford to tear his eyes from the madman with a gun. "Miranda, are you okay?"
She didn't answer me out loud. Instead she hauled herself to her feet with the jerky movements of a marionette or badly programmed mech. Her breath came in loud pants, but she never so much as whimpered. "I'm here." Her gaze turned toward Henry, and her voice was a little stronger. "Let Ori go, Father."
Henry looked at her as if she were gunk he had found on his shoe. Just another failed experiment like the dozens James, Tali, and I had passed on her way here. But if you look closer...ah, there it was. Fear. The mad scientist had created something he couldn't control, and it had come for vengeance. "No. I intend to walk out of here, and Oriana will be coming with me. Perhaps I can undo some of the brainwashing you inflicted on her. She tried to shoot me. If you hadn't forced your ridiculous fantasies of normalcy on her, she might've been of use."
"Like the refugees were of use?"
Oriana sucked in a breath. "Shepard, 'Randa, please."
Please. How many times have I heard that word? The slavers at Torfan who wanted the mercy of they denied others. Nef's mother begging me to bring her daughter's murderer to justice. Liara pleading with me to promise I would always come back. Every time I had disappointed them. Not this time. Oh God, please not this time.
I studied the pair of them. Oriana fidgeted in Henry's grasp, making it hard to line up a headshot. I could have shot her in the leg to remove her from the equation long enough for Miranda to hopefully neutralize her father. Last resort. The truth was that there was no good place to shoot a hostage. I'd seen men die from leg wounds because the medics couldn't get there in time, and every drop of medigel was precious in this war. I had to keep Henry talking, hope he eventually slipped up and left either me or Miranda an opening.
"You really think you deserve to walk after all this? What was this little horror show of yours supposed to accomplish?"
Henry's eyes flashed. "A horror show? I will be remembered as the man who found a way to control Reaper forces. I saved the human race. I should never have entrusted my legacy to my daughters." His gaze flickered toward Miranda. "I gave her my intellect, and what did she do with it? She brings back one man. The Butcher of Torfan at that! I created perfection, and she squandered it."
Miranda went very still. Her posture was erect, regal, as if she was back in the Normandy's CIC barking orders at Hadley and Matthews. "No, Father. We might have the same intelligence, but I'm the one who used it well. I'm the one who conquered death. I'm the one who stopped the Collectors. The only thing you ever did was terrorize a child. I was a fool to ever be afraid of you." Her voice was ice. "And now, you're going to die."
Her body whole body glowed with biotic power as Henry went rigid. His face froze in a mask of rage and terror as Oriana broke free and dashed forward. "Finish him, Shepard," Miranda whispered. "I can't keep this up for long."
I double tapped him in the forehead. Instant death. Much better than the bastard deserved. He was quiet as he died, the bionic field that kept him still silencing any screams or pleas he would have made. It was over. Just this once, we'd pulled it off.
Miranda's biotics flickered and died. "It's over. It's finally over." She turned to me, and my stomach shot up someone near my throat and stayed there. I had seen just a few moments of her fight with Leng, but this was… Her face was mottled with bruises and a gash cut across her right cheek as if someone had slashed it with a sword. Her right eye was swollen half-shut, and the rigid posture I had taken for self-possession was the rigidity of pain. Her knees wobbled dangerously.
Commander Shepard fled, and Christopher was back in his place. I dashed across the room to her. God, please, let her be okay. I'm going to kill Leng. I caught her as she fell, sliding her into a sitting position against the desk. "It's over." My head whipped up. "Lieutenant, radio Cortez for a pickup at the tower and tell Dr. Michel to have medbay standing by."
Miranda glared at me with her good eye. "That's really not necessary."
I gave her my best smile. It even felt pasted on. "You did the same to me after the Collecter ship. Told you I'd pay you back."
"Bastard." She gave me a half-smile of her own. "Did you worry?"
I ran all the way. "A little." My combat knife made short work of her blood-soaked jacket. More gashes marred the pale, smooth skin of her torso. Not very deep gashes, thank God. Blood splattered everywhere, but she'd be fine with proper treatment. Which didn't make it any easier to see. "You broke into a Cerberus facility alone, shut it down, and survived an attack by Reaper forces. I don't know whether to give you a medal…or…or…"
Saying it out loud made it real. Miranda had been brave, almost suicidally so. She could have died in a thousand different ways, not just these stab wounds. A banshee might have impaled her like they had the commandos at the monastery. The guards could've overwhelmed her through sheer force of numbers and integrated her. Husks could have torn her to pieces. Cerberus might have… Heat pricked my eyes, and I swallowed to keep the tears at bay. "I could have helped."
She winced as I applied the medi-gel. "I know, but you had your own problems with the Catalyst. I knew Father was running some kind of experiment here, but by the time I understood the scale of it, I was too far into the facility to call for backup. I did what I had to. It just got a bit more complicated than I expected."
"Complicated?" Oriana piped up. "Shepard's right. You're a hero. What Father did here was horrible. Until he brought me here, I thought places like this existed only in history class. I heard the screaming. All those people begging for their dignity, their life."
Miranda looked past me and, for the first time since my arrival at Sanctuary, she looked not just bloodied, but vulnerable. "I'm sorry, Ori. I tried so hard to keep you away from all this. I screwed up. Once we're off the Normandy, I'll get you some place safe."
"Safe? I don't want to be safe!" Oriana spoke with such force that I looked up. Her eyes were hard and dark, and her chin was set. She'd never looked more like her sister. "I want to find the people that did this and tear them apart. We're twins, right? I've got the same genes you do. It's time I started using them." She looked at me. "Isn't there something the Alliance can use me for?"
"Ori—"
Oriana held up a hand. "Please, I have to do something. Father told me that he went to work for Cerberus when the Illusive Man agreed to get me back. Everything that happened here is because of me. I have to make it right."
"It was never your fault."
"I didn't say it was my fault. I said it was because of me."
My brain whirred. Having another person as gifted as Miranda on our side, even if she lacked Miranda's operative training, was a clear win for the war effort. And I had already sent the kids at Grissom to war. "You're good with computers, right? Our cyberwarfare divisions are taking a big hit. We could use the help. And we could use your help cracking these databases. If you and Tali could sort through the data, I'd appreciate it. We're looking for anything that could point to Cerberus' location or tell us more about their plans."
"I can do that."
Miranda waited until they'd gone to close her good eye. "I used to dream about watching Ori grow up. I hoped the worst thing she'd ever have to deal with was getting a boy to notice her." Her laughter dissolved into a coughing fit. "Shows what I know."
I applied the last of the medi-gel. "She's a Lawson. Boys will fight over the honor to throw themselves at her feet." I smoothed her hair. It was a ragged mess, but as soft as the first time I had run my fingers through it. "Though I hope she finds a better knight in shining armor than you did."
She smiled at me, and it was a real smile. "I never really was the princess in the tower type." She sobered and patted her trouser pocket. "And if you're looking for Cerberus, I can help you. I was able to put a tracer on Leng before he left. If you hurry, you can track him directly to Cronos Station."
"And the Catalyst." And maybe I could finally get some payback. "Thank you. This is exactly what we need."
But when I grabbed the tracking device, there were no reassuring beeps to let me know the tracer was working.
"Hello, Miranda," Leng's voice said. "If you're hearing this then I guess Henry wasn't man enough to finish the job. Nice trick with the tracer. You almost got me. But in the end, you always were second best. Cerberus doesn't need weaklings like you anymore. We're going to win this war, and we're going to put humanity back on top. Say hi to your boyfriend for me."
"That bastard," Miranda rasped. "I'm going to kill him. I hope Michel is every bit the doctor Chakwas was, because I don't plan to be in medbay long." She looked down at the gash that was even now sealing itself. "And then we'll see who the weakling is."
I threw the tracer down in disgust. "Yes, we will." Leng had gotten the better of me twice now. He wouldn't get a third chance. "There's got to be a way to find the Catalyst. We were so close. I just need more time. Something to stall the Reapers. Or hell, something to stop them without the Crucible."
Miranda stroked my cheek. "We'll find other allies, other resources. We know where one major Cerberus base is: beyond the Omega-4 relay. As tenuous as the alliance is, we have Leviathan and its control spheres. I wonder what happens when you put a few of those things next to integrated troops?" she asked with a cruel smile.
I looked at her in amazement. A bloody pulp, her father dead, and Leng taunting her, and Miranda was already concocting other plans. "I was wrong. That tracer isn't exactly what I need right now. You are."
She shifted to brush her lips against mine. "It took you that long to figure it out, Commander?"
"'Randa you won't believe all the—well, it looks like you two are having fun."
Miranda pulled away from me. "Just relief. Did you find something?"
"A lot of results there I don't really understand. You'll have to go through that yourself. What I did see was pretty gruesome, though. And the words Lazarus Project were mentioned a lot. Whatever that was."
The patches of skin that weren't bruised went pale, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. "Lazarus was the project where your sister, well, resurrected me. Why would Henry want data from that? He said it was a waste of time."
"I don't know," Oriana said. "I only saw the data for a few seconds."
"I do," Miranda said quietly. "The Illusive Man still thinks that it might be the key to controlling the Reapers." She looked at me. "That 'black box' technology that scared me enough to contemplate a control chip? It was Reaper tech."
Hackett was as immaculate as ever. If he were attacked by a Banshee tomorrow, the man would still find time to launder his dress uniform. He stood at parade rest, the only sign of any emotion a subtle clinch of his jaw. "I wasn't in favor of your diversion to Sanctuary, Commander, but you proved me wrong. All that slaughter. I knew Cerberus was depraved, but this is beyond anything I could imagine. At least we've cut their supply of new troops, and snagged the second-in-command."
"Former second-in-command, sir. And we still don't have the Catalyst." I swallowed and did my best not to shiver. It felt colder in the comm room than it had on Gellix. "What about this Reaper tech Miranda said I have in me? If I'm indoctrinated…"
He looked at me in the same way he had after Arathot: a mixture of pity and resolve, like a man contemplating putting down the family dog after it had gone rabid. "Talk to Lawson. Find out anything you can about what she did to you. It's possible that this is more akin to the geth's upgrade than Cerberus integration procedures."
"And if it isn't?"
He didn't miss a beat. "Then I'll have to request Major Alenko be reassigned."
I didn't ask what he meant by that. I didn't have to. If an agent goes rogue, they send another one to take him down. That's Spectre justice. I shook my head. I wouldn't think about that unless I had to. "And the Illusive Man thinks the Lazarus Project might be the key to controlling the Reapers."
"The Illusive Man has always had a passion for mad science. Dead Reapers are how we win this, Shepard. Don't forget that. Hackett, out."
"I'll try not to, sir," I said to the empty room. I stood there for a long time, listening for the hum of engines and for other things. The only whispers I heard these days were Ash, Mordin, and Thane. Sometimes Padok Wiks was there to call me a murderer who had committed genocide. But no Reapers. No feelings of being watched. No superstitions awe. But how long could I have Reaper tech inside me and run around things like Object Rho and still dodge the bullet? There was only one woman who could tell me.
Miranda was still in the medical bay, half propped up by pillows. Some of the bruises were already fading, and both her eyes were open. Her chest had been heavily bandaged, though. I didn't know whether to throttle her for keeping secrets or throw myself at her feet and swear vengeance on Leng and the Illusive Man.
So I pulled up a chair. "You're looking better."
"Dr. Michel assures me I'm going to be fine." She sighed. "You never were any good at small talk, Christopher. I know why you're here."
"You told me I had Reaper tech in my skull. I know you love keeping secrets and leaving me in the dark about what you're doing, but this takes the cake."
She flinched. "To protect you! I knew you'd worry."
"Goddamnit, Miranda. If I'd gone crazy and worked with the Reapers, we'd be done for. I still might."
"That's why I wanted the chip. Known medicine could only take us so far. It would've taken years to get you functional. Colonists were already starting to disappear, and intel was sure that it was connected to the Reapers somehow. So, the Illusive Man suggested we take a…shortcut. I was half terrified, half ecstatic. You've seen for yourself what the technology can do in the right hands: increased strength, faster healing, virtual immunity to toxins and sedatives. And well, if it could be done for you then it could be done for anyone. A true advancement of humanity."
"And all you had to do was lie to me and risk my sanity. It must've seemed like a deal."
She flinched again, almost imperceptibly, and I knew I had gone too far. "I never risked you once you were off the table. What do you think Chambers was for? There's a fifty page psych evaluation of you somewhere in Cerberus databanks. Ask Liara if you want a copy." Her voice was low, throbbing with barely suppressed emotion. "And do you think for a moment that I would let you touch me if I thought you were indoctrinated?"
No. No she wouldn't. "And the Illusive Man thinking that I'm the key to controlling the Reapers?"
"That… that was when I started suspecting Cerberus had gone mad. He's always wanted power for humanity, but he became obsessed with harnessing the Reapers. Anti-indoctrination countermeasures, weapons, anything that might actually help us defeat the Reapers, was suspended in favor of finding a way to harness them. He became convinced that a hybrid, someone who combined the best aspects of both synthetic and organic, could do just that. He wanted a fusion of Reaper and humanity, and Lazarus was our only success."
"So was Saren."
"Yes, but you kept your mind. The Illusive Man was convinced there was something special about you." She looked down, her fingers playing idly across the blanket. "He ordered me to implant living subjects with Lazarus tech. I told him that a living body would never survive the strain. He insisted. I refused. That was the first time he sent assassins after me." She reached for my hand. "It's probably just his insanity. You saw how far away Father was from controlling anything like a Reaper. But I swear to you, the Reapers don't control you."
I looked down at her hand. Pale, smooth, and unmarred after everything. I couldn't quite bring myself to squeeze it. "I think I'm going to have a look at the psych eval." I tried to smile. Wasn't sure how convincing it was. "I just, I need some time to process all this. But I'll be by again later."
I took my time getting to Liara's office. Miranda's revelation had set me back on my heels. I was supposed to be some kind of hybrid? I could almost hear Saren's voice. The strengths of both and the weaknesses of neither. But Miranda seemed so sure that I wasn't crazy, even if the Illusive Man was. And she was right about one thing: if other people could have what I had, then that was good. The advancement of humanity had been her goal first, but it had become mine. It had been a way to make sense of the universe after the Alliance and Council had decided to stick their fingers in their ears. I thought had a purpose both for the war and after. And without purpose, I would've just been another thug. But I'd always been different because of what I did instead of what I was. I wondered if this was how Miranda felt.
Liara's fingers flew across the keyboard as she peered at the monitor. This was how I always found her: my little scholar lost in streams of data. But there was a hollowness to her now, as if one eye was on her work and the other was on the burning spires of Thessia.
"Christopher," she said without looking up. "How's Miranda?"
I threw myself into the chair opposite her desk. "She'll recover."
"I'm not surprised. She always was driven." The corners of her mouth turned down as her voice turned softer. "I hope the two of you find some happiness Shepard."
I cringed. Everything had been aboveboard. Liara had wanted me to tell her everything would be all right, and I had loved her too much to lie to her. So we'd ended things. I found Miranda and Liara found a renewed joy in her work and the plans for the Crucible. We were friends. Which didn't make things any easier sometimes. "I didn't really want to talk about that."
She looked up. "What's wrong?"
I told her.
There was a distinct lack of shock or horror on her face. "I'll get the evaluation for you. It was part of the data I was able to save from Hagalaz."
Two and two finally made four in my head. "You already knew about the Reaper tech, didn't you?"
"I wanted to be kept updated on your reconstruction. The Illusive Man was happy enough to oblige. I think he and Miranda saw me as a potential asset on Illium. Miranda and I were in contact someone regularly. Not quite friends, but colleagues. I'm afraid I may have lost my temper when she told me what she planned for you. I was sure you would come back a monster."
"Does everybody know about me being part Reaper?
She chuckled for the first time since Thessia. "You really should stop surrounding yourself with people who trade in secrets for a living." She reached over and grabbed a datapad. "Here. Everything Kelly and Miranda had on you."
I looked at it, but my head was spinning too much for it to be anything but a wall of text. "You know me better than anyone except Mom. Do you think I'm all right?"
She gulped, and dozens of emotions played across her face in rapid succession. "I think you're the same man I met on Therum all those years ago."
I supposed that was the best answer I could hope for.
January 5, 2185: Shepard has boarded the SR-2. He expressed some skepticism about Cerberus having altruistic goals. While both Operative Lawson and I hope to convince him of our sincerity, this is a good sign considering his negative interaction with other cells. He seems surprisingly healthy considering all he's been through.
January 21, 2185: Shepard has just returned from a meeting with the Council. He seems unusually irritable, but otherwisenormal.
February 17, 2185: Shepard, along with Operatives Lawson and Taylor, have returned from assisting Project Overlord. Shepard spent 3.5 hours in the lounge area and emerged heavily intoxicated. Neither he nor Operative Lawson are willing to divulge what happened down there. I can't do my job if I'm kept in the dark like this.
March 9, 2185: Shepard and the rest of the ground team are in high spirits. Something about a thresher maw.
March 10, 2185: Shepard in a rage again. A salarian scientist was attempting to cure the genophage. Shepard destroyed the data. The vehemence with which he defended his actions may indicate conflicting feelings.
April 7, 2185: I think Shepard may actually be indoctrinated. He's expressed a desire to activate the geth we found. I'm terrified of what it might do if he gets in our systems.
That was the last entry. A few days later, the Collectors had come. We had stormed their base fully prepared, but it had come at the cost of half the crew. I'd watched as Chambers had banged on the glass, screaming as she dissolved inside a pod. There had been thirteen casualties in all. Later, I'd asked EDI to model what would have happened if we'd gone directly through the relay. There would have been a seventy percent chance of outright mission failure.
Thirty-seven people aboard the Normandy. Thirteen dead. That worked out to a thirty-five percent casualty rate. I made the right decision. Simple math.
I hated math.
Math? whispered Padok Wiks. You shot me in the back. What would Mordin think of that? What will Urdnot Wrex think when he finds out?
No. Wrex wouldn't find out, at least not until long after this war was over. And then I would find a way to make him understand. You couldn't live in the moment. Even when fighting against the Reapers, I had to do what I could to minimize potential threats. An unchecked birthrate would be disastrous for the krogan and for us as they fought for water and food to sustain their exploding population. All of Wrex's carefully laid reforms would be smashed to pieces. I did read my philosophers, and I wasn't eager to see Leviathan played out across the Milky Way.
Excuses. Murderer.
Maybe I wasn't indoctrinated. Maybe it was just going the regular kind of crazy. And if that were the case, then there was only one person that I wanted to see.
Miranda was still up. She sat in bed, reading by the low light of the medbay. Her lips moved silently as she read. The blanket had had fallen off her, exposing more bruises and cuts, but also the sweep of her neck and curve of her shoulder. She was still, but there was a tension there, as if she were prepared to either attack or dive into some new project at any moment. Whatever else had happened, she was here and she was safe.
"What are you reading?"
She looked up at me. Some of the tension in her shoulders unspooled, and a few of the lines around her face vanished. "War and Peace."
"You're kidding? I didn't think anyone actually read that."
"Says the man who majored in philosophy." Her smile grew bigger as she handed me the datapad. The screen was filled with Cyrillic characters.
"Now you're just showing off." I sat down beside her. "I got a look at Chambers' notes."
"Oh?" So much in a single syllable. On the surface, there was her usual detached irony, but scratch that and you found worry underneath. Not the festering wound of guilt she had unveiled in the apartment a few weeks back, but I still felt unbalanced. Miranda actually caring what I thought of her—of caring for me—was still a pretty new thing, and spending the last eight months either locked up or trying to kill Reapers meant that the novelty hadn't worn off yet.
"Yeah. If she, Liara, and you all think that my brain is still mine, then I guess I can't argue." I leaned forward in my chair. "Just… no more secrets, okay? Between this and the beacon on Thessia, I've had enough to last a lifetime."
"Asking a spy to be honest with you? You drive a hard bargain, Commander." She reached for my hand, and this time I didn't pull back. "It's a good thing I think you're worth the price."
"Likewise, Ms. Lawson." I leaned over and kissed her. It was our first real kiss since that night in the apartment, and I let myself savor it. Her lips were soft as she molded them to mine, and she tasted just as good as ever. Like citrus. One hand came up to tangle in my hair as she made noises in the back of her throat. I made noises too. So nice to finally be able to touch her again without Cerberus breathing down our necks.
"So," she said when she pulled back. "Anything in particular you want to know now that I'm supposed to be honest?"
I thought. Part of me wanted to ask more about the mysterious Reaper tech and how the Illusive Man had managed to twist his mind into knots. Was there anything in me that could be helpful for fighting the Reapers or finding the Catalyst? I resisted the impulse. The Illusive Man was either insane or indoctrinated, and I had other priorities tonight. Like convincing my girlfriend that trust didn't always mean discussing earthshaking secrets.
"Well, you could start by telling me why an Australian whose translator cost more than my car is reading Tolstoy in the original."
I thought Miranda would smile and laugh, but she was suddenly still and quiet. Her eyes looked at me, but her brain was somewhere else entirely. "Oleg," she murmured.
"Who's Oleg?"
She blinked. "Oleg Petrovsky. He oversaw most of our military operations. And he was the man who brought me into Cerberus."
I leaned forward in my chair. Miranda hardly ever talked about her past. I had to make do with a hint here, an allusion there. I had to hear about something as innocent as her relationship with Jacob secondhand. Having her volunteer information was like finding platinum in my backyard. "Sounds like a story there."
"Not a very exciting one, I'm afraid. He was in Sydney discussing the possibility of him using some genetic upgrades my father developed for Cerberus troops. When I decided I had to leave, I knew that I would need protection, and Cerberus was the only thing Father ever seemed afraid of. So I went to his hotel and begged him to take me with him. I told him how much use I could be to him and his organization. I would be unquestionably loyal." She swallowed. "And I would be more than willing to sleep with him if he would only get me out of that hell."
My fists clenched. My teeth clenched. White-hot anger shot through me like a poker. "You were what, fifteen? If he touched you, I'll tear him apart myself."
She laughed. A real laugh, even if didn't quite reach her eyes. "Have I told you how very anachronistic your sense of chivalry is? You and Oleg would get along famously. He turned me down. But he told me that if I was willing to serve humanity, then he would do what he could for me. He was the one who pled my case to the Illusive Man. I slept on his couch for a month. He could spend hours talking about military history and tactics. Everything I know about leading soldiers I learned from him. And it was his vision of Cerberus that I followed: that we were first and foremost humanity's servants and that we were to always be willing to put our own lives on the line in its defense."
"And he introduced you to Tolstoy." So this was the man who had helped make Miranda the woman I had been willing to follow into hell and later loved. "Do you know if he got out?"
She shook her head. "No. The last time I spoke to him was just before we went through the Omega-4 relay. And after I went on the run, I didn't dare risk it." She bowed her head, and her shoulders hunched as if a dozen elcor were pressing down on her. "He never would have stood for what Cerberus has become. The thought of him turned into a husk—" Her fist balled up, and a spot of color blossomed on her cheek. "I'll make the Illusive Man pay for what he's done, I promise you."
I looked at her. If this were a vid, the hero would promise that he would do whatever it took to bring his beloved's mentor back safely. But the real world was more brutal. Oleg Petrovsky might have been a good man, but indoctrination affected good and bad alike. If he were still with Cerberus, integration would have stripped him of any honor he possessed. The best Miranda could hope for was that he had a quick death. And she was another person who I loved too much to lie to.
"I promise... I promise that I'll do everything I can to make sure the Illusive Man, Leng, and the rest of the bastards get what they deserve." There. That was one promise even I could keep.
"Oh, for God's sake, Christopher, I'm not an invalid. Stop looking at me like you expect me to collapse at any second. You aren't going to have to carry me bodily into Purgatory."
Easy for her to say. The truth was that Miranda did look better. The bruises were old and yellow and faded when they weren't gone altogether. She'd borrowed one of the uniforms EDI sometimes used when in infiltration mode. The black suit clung to her almost as well as her old Cerberus catsuit. But her steps were a little more careful, her gestures a bit more measured.
"Yes ma'am," and did my best to look nonchalant. Just two ordinary people going out for drinks. Even Leng couldn't screw that up.
But someone else could. A moment after we entered, a batarian I recognized vaguely as one of Aria's bodyguards stepped in front of us. "Shepard, Aria wants to see you. Now." He cast a pointed glance at Miranda. "And alone."
Miranda gave me a sideways glance. I shrugged. I'd dutifully helped organize the gangs under Aria's rule in exchange for the assurance that said gangs would help with the war effort when the time came. I had no idea what she could want with me now. But it looked like I would have to postpone my date. The Pirate Queen wasn't the type to go back on a deal, but there was no reason to piss off an asset unnecessarily.
Miranda touched me on the shoulder. "I see duty calls. I'll meet you at the bar later." She kissed me on the cheek and was gone. I watched her go, the subtle sway of her hips as she walked. Sometimes I hated duty.
Aria had reserved a private room above the bustle on the dance floor. I could still feel the pounding of the bass. Aria herself lounged on one of the couches as if she were the queen of the station and not just a crime lord in exile. And surrounded as she was by guards and hangers-on, it was easy to believe it. "Shepard."
"What do you want, Aria?"
A smile played across her lips. "Always so direct. I like that about you. I'll be blunt: Shepard. The time has come for me to retake Omega, and I want your help."
I was pretty sure my jaw dropped to the floor. She couldn't possibly…Aria was smarter than that. "The Reapers are breathing down our necks, and you want to spend troops kicking Cerberus off a space station. Worse, you want me to take resources away from the fight to do it. The Normandy—"
"I don't need the Normandy. Just you. I've assembled a more than adequate fleet. And I definitely don't want the Alliance able to take any credit for this. They'll feel like I owe them, and it will be impossible to root them out afterwards. Just you, me, and a few thousand of my closest friends." She straightened. "Better than wandering around aimlessly liberating fuel depots."
She had me there. "And what exactly do I get out of this?"
"Use your imagination, Shepard. Cerberus only wanted Omega to protect their precious salvage from the Collector base. I think it would be much better in our hands than theirs, don't you? And Omega has been chafing under Cerberus rule for months now. My sources inform me that they've instituted a blockade. How popular do you think that will make them? You'll have people begging to join the war."
Tempting. Very tempting. Certainly a lot more tempting than waiting for a lead to the Cerberus base to fall into my lap. "I'll think about it."
"Don't think too long Shepard. We'll be moving soon." Her eyes were hard and glittering. "I'll give you the details when you decide you're in. I don't trust this room."
I nodded and stood. "I'll be in touch, Aria." We both knew that my answer would be yes. It was just a matter of contacting Alliance Command and making sure that there were no more urgent fires for me to put out. And making sure Aria knew that I wasn't her lap dog.
"I think you should take her up on that offer," Miranda said when I rejoined her. "Oh, don't look so surprised. What else could Aria want from you except your help in taking back her precious Omega? And beyond Omega is Avernus Station. I, for one, am looking forward to the prospect of paying the Illusive Man back for sending us on a suicide mission so he could get his hands on Collector technology."
I supposed now was as good a time as any to tell her. "She wants me to go in alone."
Her eyes narrowed, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. "I suppose the odds of this being a set up are minimal, as are the chances of this going worse than Arathot. And Shepard…" She stroked the line of my cheek where my scars were beginning to show again. "If there's anything to the Illusive Man's madness, you'll find what you're looking for at Avernus Station."
A shiver raced down my spine and across my arms. Answers. Final, definitive proof that I wasn't indoctrinated. Maybe something we could use to beat the Reapers. "I'll remember that." I smiled at her and signaled the bartender. "But for now I think I just want to share a bottle of wine with my favorite woman in the galaxy."
It was late by the time we left the club, and the Presidium was well into its night cycle. I was pleasantly buzzed, and Miranda looked as good as I had ever seen her. She talked in a low voice of Oriana's adjustment to life on a ship, old memories of Mordin and Thane, and a dozen small topics we never seemed to have time to talk about.
"I'm not joking." Her eyes danced with the light of alcohol. "I took Donnelly and Tali for everything they were worth. I am a very, very good poker player."
"I bet you couldn't take me, Ms. Lawson. I supplemented my stipend at the Academy with my Skyllian Five winnings.
"Is that a challenge, Commander?" Her voice was low with just the slightest hint of breath. "I never could resist a challenge."
I shivered. It was dark, and there was hardly anyone around. It would be so easy just to throw her up against the nearest wall and make up for lost time. "It might be."
"Well then I'll—"
"Shepard!"
My insides froze at the sound of that voice. Wrex. Enraged Wrex screaming my name. Oh no.
That was all I had time to think of before an angry krogan charged toward me. I dove out of the way and behind a parked sky car at the last moment. I saw Miranda spring to the other side out of the corner of my eye. I felt my jacket pocket. The Paladin was a cool and reassuring weight. If Fate were kind, I wouldn't have to use it.
Wrex roared. "I know what you did, you miserable little vorcha spawn! Did you think Wiks was my only source inside the STG? I hope those piddling little salarian fleets were worth the extinction of my entire people."
Think. I had to think. There was a way to end this without violence. I just had to find it. Lying wouldn't help, not if Wrex already knew that I had sabotaged the cure. "I had to do it, Wrex. It was for the good of the galaxy."
"Good of the galaxy? My people are going to go extinct!"
Sweat formed on my palms, cold and slick. "They won't. The genophage keeps the population level. If the birth rate goes back to what it was, krogan on Tuchanka will be starving in a few hundred years. All the hard work you've done is going to go down the drain. I'm sorry, but that's just the way things are. I ran the numbers—"
Another roar, and I heard the telltale sign of a shotgun being primed. "Numbers! That's what we are for you? Just another item on the ledger? It's not even a good fight for you is it, Shepard. Just business?"
"I'm trying to protect the galaxy here, Wrex. Including the krogan."
I'd faced thresher maws, geth colossi, and Reaper destroyers, but nothing was scarier than the sound of insane krogan laughter. "That'll be such a comfort when we're all dead. The quarian used to wonder how you did what you did on Torfan. I told her a fight was a fight, but it's not even a fight for you, is it, Shepard? Just another item on your list of things to do? Well, if my people go extinct, so do yours. I'm calling off my support for Earth."
Shit. Without krogan support, Palavan was lost. And without Palaven, our chances of being able to successfully deploy the Crucible were cut in half. And that was the optimistic estimate. "It doesn't have to be this way, Wrex."
"He's right, it doesn't have to be this way," Miranda said calmly. There was the telltale whoosh of biotics and a clatter as the shotgun fell to the floor. "If you really want to help your people then go back to Tuchanka. C-Sec will be here in a few minutes. What will dying here accomplish?"
"It will accomplish me dying with some honor. I wouldn't expect a human to understand. Stay out of this if you know what's good for you. All I want is Shepard, but I'll kill you too if I have to."
I stood up and leveled the gun at him. If it had to go down this way, then so be it. "No, you won't kill anyone, Wrex. Walk away."
He looked at me, and just for a moment I saw the dull redness of his eyes. I didn't know how it was for krogan, but I'd seen that look often enough after Torfan. We called them zombies: men who might eat, breathe and sleep, but were just as dead as the corpses. "You should have killed me that day on Virmire."
His body glowed with biotic power as he rushed me. I sidestepped and fired into his face. It didn't even slow him down. Another shot. Another. And still he came at me, screaming. Not words. Not anymore. Just primal, bestial rage. The fourth shot slowed him. The fifth brought him to his knees.
He coughed and sputtered, sending weak flashes of biotic power that didn't even muss my jacket. "I…know…what…you…did…" He spat in my face. "This is how you'll be remembered, Butcher. As the man who killed the krogan. Well, do what you do best. Finish me."
I looked into his face as I fired the last shot. I watched as the light went out of his eyes. I watched as his body slumped to the ground. If you have to do dirty business then you damn well look at it and own it.
Miranda looked down at the body. "You did the right thing."
"Yeah." Maybe someday I'd even believe it.
I hated math.
The shuttle was dark and cramped. Aria sat opposite me, flanked by her two batarian guards. "So glad you decided to accept my little offer."
"You were right. I need the extra support." I wouldn't let Wrex's words come to pass. I'd see that the Crucible was finished and I would save the galaxy. And somehow I would find a way to save the krogan, too. I'd help them find a way to live with the genophage. And maybe we could all stop dying. "About these details you promised?"
"You have been waiting patiently." She handed me a datapad, and I was rewarded with the slight of a tall, bearded man in his middle fifties lowering back at me. "This is the man who stole Omega from me. General Oleg Petrovsky. He broke the one rule of Omega, and I'm going to make him pay. Slowly."
Shit.
