A/N: The Mass Effect universe, characters, creations, and general storyline is the property of Bioware. I'm simply having fun with some ideas.

This is an AU story, so liberties will be taken.

I will Rise

By: Spectre4hire

Prologue

"Bitch!"

Miranda Lawson let out a tired sigh. It was going to be one of those days, she just knew it. Three weeks, it had been three weeks since she reluctantly inherited a Cerberus cell that had skated on being rogue. The cell had jeopardized years of research and sufficient funds. The responsibility had fallen on Miranda to clean up the mess while at the same time try to comb through the remnants of information and experiment logs in an attempt to salvage the hefty investment.

She already had most of the workers against her. None of them were too fond of her accountability and need of results. They couldn't understand that she was not here to coddle them, but to get results from them. Hence, she earned the moniker of 'Ice Queen' due to her chilling personality and aloof demeanor, traits she made no apologies for. She wasn't here to make friends. She was given a job, and was going to squeeze every last drop of useful information and intel from this cell.

Other members of the crew who were not so creative, just relied on the vulgar term-'bitch.' Such as the word that Miranda had just heard being shouted from the Mess Hall, which was a few doors down from the corridor that she was currently walking through. She was sure that some of the scientists had probably taken sanctuary in the Mess Hall to allow themselves an opportunity to vent with equally fuming colleagues about the growing changes in protocol that she was issuing.

Miranda appeared at the open doors of the Mess Hall, quick to note the glowering mood of those who packed the cafeteria tables. Many of whom were grumbling amongst themselves, slandering and continued to use vulgar terms to vent their growing frustration. However, upon further inspection, she realized that she was not the target of their anger, but a projection. She remained in the shadows of the corridor, so that she could not be seen by those presiding in the Main Hall, but was in a position so that she was still given a proper view of the projection.

The projection was of a human female reporter, whose name flashed at the bottom of the screen, Miranda wasn't paying attention to the rather absurdly long name, her attention shifted to the person whom the reporter was interviewing. It was Commander John Shepard, Humanity's first Spectre.

"You would think she would have humanity's best interests!" complained one man, whom Miranda was sure worked Security.

One of the grumbling men, whose uniform was covered by a stained apron walked between the tables, gathering plates and bowls. "What do you expect from a reporter? They're all leeches!"

She was quick to notice the passion and sincerity behind their protesting of this reporter. She was interested in how these working stiffs so eagerly defended the famous Commander, who none of them had ever met or spoken to. It was more a merit of Shepard's character and charisma then a fault in these men. While her personality and character only seemed to alienate both herself and her colleagues.

Miranda looked at the man closely wanting to study his every feature. This was the Lion of Elysium, she thought, remembering reading first hand reports from Cerberus Operatives who had been on the ground before and after the Battle of Elysium. What Shepard had done was legendary, having rallied civilians, and tourists to not only fight skilled mercenaries and raiders, but to successfully defend the colony until Alliance reinforcements came was incredible. Those feats alone would impress even the hardiest general, but Shepard also had single-handedly held the main line when it was breached for hours until proper reinforcements could relieve him.

Brace, charismatic, resourceful, she paused in her listing, unable to deny the man his due, he was indeed incredibly skilled. These were the same skills that Humanity prided themselves on. These were skills that Cerberus looked for in their own recruits.

Even being the busy Operative that she was, she could still remember the months that followed Elysium, you couldn't turn on the Holos or the Extra-net without his image and story popping up. In that span she had visited numerous human colonies throughout the Traverse, those of whom were unfriendly with the Alliance and even had run-ins with asari, salarians, and turians and all of them were familiar with the deeds that Shepard was heralded for.

However all that changed in Shepard's next battle when he was given a new title-'The Butcher of Torfan.' Miranda had thought the name was more the media's attempt to vilify the Alliance-Poster-Boy. She knew the media well enough to know that the only thing they loved more than a hero, was a hero that fell.

She remembered the details of that particular battle as well. Shepard had personally led the charge in the Batarian stronghold, losing nearly his entire platoon in the process, but in the end, he succeeded, he had gotten the job done. Miranda couldn't fault him for succeeding, he had done his job. He had done his duty. He did what the Alliance asked him to do. Getting results was something she personally took pride in during her numerous assignments for Cerberus.

Torfan was the Batarian's last serious attempt at making noise in the Traverse in their slaving and raiding of Human colonies and human interest in the area. Because of Shepard, colonizing was able to flourish unhindered without the potential threat of the Batarian Hegemony lashing out at them.

Miranda easily recalled the Fallout of the battle, instead of being grateful for what Shepard had done. He was vilified and deemed a Butcher for sending so many men and women to die on that moon. The fact that Shepard had personally led the assault was ignored by his critics. The Alliance bowing to political pressure performed a vanishing act on Shepard, who overnight disappeared from the spotlight.

It seemed Shepard would get the last laugh, returning years later as Humanity's first Spectre. No one seemed to question Shepard's absence. There were still whispers of Torfan, but just as many would whisper of Elysium. To the general populace, they seemed to have forgotten about the little incident on Torfan, and instead decided to highlight his record at Elysium and now his incredible feat of becoming the first Human Spectre.

She frowned at the cowardice shown by the Alliance. Believing it only further highlighted their faults and their growing weakness on the galactic stage. To her, the Alliance no longer cared about humanity; instead they only wished to stay in the good graces of the Citadel was why Miranda Lawson worked for Cerberus. They had not forgotten the need to not only preserve Humanity, but to strengthen and advance the human race. Just as the other species had ways of serving and protecting themselves, the Salarians had the STGs, the turians had their Black Watch, and the Asari had their Commandos.

She returned her attention to the holo-image of Shepard inspecting the man closely, wanting a better look at the man who has made so much history in these last few years.

He was broad shouldered, with short black hair, tall, muscular, with a clear military stance that reflected his years of active duty. However, it was when he turned to the camera to end the hostile interview where she noticed his most alluring quality his ensnaring blue eyes.

It was a rare trait. Many believed the genetics had died out. She had blue eyes, but that was because of her father. His need of legacy, his quest for perfection… A rush of annoyance filled her, causing her to instinctively clench her fists at her side.

The emotion had left as soon as it came, but not wanting to be bothered anymore about the life she left behind. Miranda Lawson took one last look at Humanity's first Spectre, before walking past the Mess Hall and back towards her office.

This particular cell was made up of four underground facilities that were all connected by a series of underground tunnels. Three of the facilities were for research, containing the cells of their test subjects. As well as their mainframe, this remained locked and supervised at all time. It was in this VI mainframe that they were able to store all of the information gathered in the months of research. These three facilities also housed the rooms and offices of a number of scientists and assistants.

The fourth facility contained the cell's director's office, the barracks for the security personnel, Mess Hall, storage units, Cargo Bay, and the rarely used hangar due to the planet's conditions, the cell was lucky if they received two supply freighters in eight months.

While she walked, Miranda reflected on the circumstances that brought her here. The heads of the cell were becoming bolder in their experiments. In their need to validate the amount of money being poured into their cell, they wanted to broaden their test subjects, this included Alliance soldiers. With repercussions that led to the death of a nosy Alliance Admiral. A death which was more difficult to cover up then a handful of Alliance Marines, not that Miranda was justifying the previous cell's decision making, because she wasn't.

To Miranda Lawson it was these people's actions that hurt Cerberus's image. Their actions had been inexcusable and she was thankful that she was the one to hold them accountable. It only took a couple of bullets...

After handling the leadership of the cell, Miranda discovered the troves of research, much of which she had downloaded into her Omni-tool in hopes of catching up with the Project. She had been here for three weeks, and still hadn't gone through all of the files and reports on the subjects and experiments that this cell was responsible for-Thorian creepers and Rachni. It had been a startling but alluring revelation. The information collected was staggering, and some of the results were quite promising.

She could still remember the first time she came into contact with these 'creepers.' She was amazed at how obedient they were. They followed through every order, whether it was fetching items across a room, or attacking automated turrets. These creepers obeyed every task with complete success. The sky was the limit for these docile servants. She could only wonder of the success Cerberus would have if they could successfully replicate and mass produce these creepers and turn them into shock troopers. It would be a terrible sight for even the hardiest Asari commando. These creepers would help allow Humanity to take its rightful and respectful place as equals amidst the other Council species.

The rachni had proven to be another story. Whereas the creepers were obedient, the rachni were rebellious. Upon taking over the project, Miranda had learned that they were responsible for killing a few Cerberus employees. Since Miranda had become the project director, the rachni had killed two more. However, their deaths were not in vain, since she had witnessed the gruesome executions, and believed that valuable information had been discerned from the unexpected events.

She frowned, remembering the two deaths. It had been an accident. The Project Director stepped into her office which was nothing larger than an oversized closet. Taking a seat behind her desk, turning on her terminal and was pleased to see the lab had forwarded their notes from the last experiment. It had been another 'failure.'

They had tried to communicate with the rachni through a series of recordings that they had previously recorded in an earlier session. The tests showed initial promise until the recordings began to skip. This caused the rachni to go ballistic. Thankfully, the critters were sealed in fortified cages. There were no casualties.

Miranda Lawson found the rachni an intriguing, but frustrating riddle to crack. The rachni nearly brought the Council to ruin, if not for the timely intervention of the Krogan. One would imagine that there would or should be a plethora of information on the species, but sadly it seemed the direct opposite was true. The Council thought it would be far easier to just eliminate the species, without studying the promising species.

The Citadel's loss will be our gain. The thought alone brought a thin smile to Miranda's lips.

"Director Lawson."

Miranda recognized the voice immediately. It belonged to the head of this cell's security- Oscar Stackhouse.

He was a veteran Alliance soldier who had been persuaded to join Cerberus only a few months ago after the events of Eden Prime. He was a soldier who had become restless with the boring details of a security guard. He stood nearly six feet tall, shaved head, alert brown eyes, his face riddled with scars from his duties fighting batarian pirates in the Traverse and fresh ones from the Geth encounters on Eden Prime.

"Yes, Stackhouse?"

She didn't look up to greet him, keeping her attention on the fresh emails from the lab. However, she could still feel his eyes roaming over her body. It was just another price of the tailored genetics that her father had strived for in making her perfect, in making her the beginning of a lasting dynasty. Her looks, her intelligence, her genetics, her training, everything about her was made for her father's advancing legacy. She was the pinnacle of humanity. She was the supposed future of humanity.

"I just got back from the Cargo Bay; apparently our supplies are going to be delayed."

Miranda sighed. She should have been expecting this. The planet they were on had several benefits. Its isolation and distance from the nearest populated world made it ideal to perform experiments without worrying about interference or discovery by either the Alliance or the Council. However, the planet chosen was a frozen wasteland. It was constantly snowing with gusts of winds that easily reached a hundred miles an hour, the planet was peppered with hail the size of battle helmets. The surface and atmosphere of the planet was anything but welcoming, so in order for the cell to operate, all of the facilities were built underground. It shielded them from the nastier conditions of the planet, but their supply frigates were not so lucky, when they tasked to fly in these hostile conditions to deliver supplies.

The disappointing news got Miranda to glance up from her notes; quick to catch the Head of Security openly staring at her chest. Chief Stackhouse at least had the decency to look away when he realized he was caught. Not wanting further attention drawn to her figure, she decided to bite down on any scathing insult she might have hurled, instead she returned her eyes back to her terminal to finish reading the data.

"Did they estimate when they would be able to get past this storm?"

"A week or so."

"Typical," Miranda replied, closing the report on her terminal.

The Chief offered her a shrug, "That's what happens when you want to stay off the radar."

Miranda nodded, "Then security should begin the next rotation, since they won't be needed to unload supplies."

"We'll leave shortly. I'm letting the men finish watching the Holos," he replied, before amending. "Will that be okay, Director?"

"Are they watching the Spectre interview?" she asked, remembering seeing some of the security detail at the Mess Hall when she walked by.

"Yeah, can't say I don't blame 'em."

Miranda recognized the respectful tone that slipped out of the gruff security chief. "You saw him in action didn't you, Stackhouse?"

Stackhouse straightened up immediately at the question, a look of pride on his face. "I was on one of the responding teams for Elysium. I remember walking the streets where the battle had occurred." He paused, a smile on his face before he continued. "And I remember the bodies… There was so many of those batarian bastard corpses, so many piles of those damn slavers. The height of each pile going about-" Stackhouse put his hand just above his head to signal the height of the piles. "And they were all killed by one man."

Miranda didn't have any difficulty believing Stackhouse's report, remembering similar reports from various Cerberus Operatives. "I'm sure it was quite the sight."

"I was at Eden Prime, too. We weren't one of the details that got the hit the hardest, but I did see the Geth and…" he paused, with a slight shiver. "Well, I don't know what you would call those… those things, but they looked an awful lot like the creepers we have here."

"Really?" Miranda asked, perking up at this new and startling revelation. She was curious for any detail about the events on Eden Prime, since she hadn't read any of the reports from any reliable sources. She was quick to notice that whatever Stackhouse had seen, these supposed creepers it seemed to have quite the emotional effect on him.

"Yeah, but the difference between the creepers and those…husks. Was that the husks were made on these 'Dragon's Teeth."

"Dragon's Teeth?" repeated a confused Miranda. Making a mental note to further research the attack on Eden Prime and to further investigate. It was bad enough that the Geth had openly attacked a human colony, but if they possessed this sort of technology, then counter-measures needed to be developed and quickly.

"Yeah," Stackhouse replied hesitantly, shifting uncomfortably, at his need to further share the horrors at Eden Prime. "From what I was told by the survivors the Geth…well they impaled the colonists on these pikes and they… they transformed into these husks."

That's…horrifying, she thought, at the mental images that were conjured at his description of the events. She was careful to keep her expression from cracking while she continued to wear a look of icy indifference, but inside she was squirming at the revelation of these geth made husks.

Before either of them could go further in the conversation, her office was plunged in red light while a loud siren blared.

Miranda knew at once what was happening. The facility alarms had been triggered. A frantic voice was quick to come over Miranda and Stackhouse's Omni-tool communicator.

"This is Doctor Okana, Thorian creepers are out of control! Abandon the facility!"

"Shit!" Chief Stackhouse cursed. He was already typing on his omni-tool frantically. No doubt, trying to rally up security personnel in hopes of containing the damage. The Thorian creeper facility was the closest to the mess hall. If they were on a rampage then it would be a bloodbath to the unexpected off duty Cerberus workers who were residing there. But in order for them to reach the mess hall, they would have to pass…

"Damn it," Miranda shouted, pushing herself out from behind her desk. "We need to secure the other facilities."

"I've have already sent out the alert," replied Stackhouse, who was moving to the door.

"Good, I'll assemble all non-security and usher them into the safe room," Miranda instructed, before pulling out her hand cannon and automated pistol.

Stackhouse gave a firm nod, with the doors opening. "Meet you there."

Miranda turned just in time to see Chief Stackhouse's head become severed from his body by a creeper. The chief's body swayed, blood spurting from his neck like a fountain before the body fell backwards.

She raised her hand cannon without thought, took aim and peppered the creeper in the chest with a few quick shots. It stumbled backwards before collapsing into the corridor.

Miranda stepped around her desk, turning to the headless cadaver of Chief Stackhouse. There was no remorse, or show of sadness at the loss of this man. She was void of such emotions, unattached with those she worked with. She did give a quick disappointed shake of the head, realizing she had lost the second best fighter in the entire facility. She had barely taken a step towards the door when three more creepers revealed themselves in the corridor.

They were an unsettling sight when they were docile servants. Their resemblance and similar movements to human was unnerving. With their sickly looking grayish skin, large black eyes, sharp fingers with their index finger's length as long and as sharp as a butcher knife. They communicated with one another in low, throaty groans that were an unsettling sound for anyone else.

The pack of three creepers advanced on the Cerberus Director.

Miranda called up on her biotics, blue pulsating energy enveloping her before she snapped her arm forward, sending a powerful warp to the nearest creeper. Who was picked off its feet before being smashed into the wall. Its body exploded with sappy blood and dried flesh that showered Miranda's office.

The two remaining creepers were not deterred by the loss of their comrade advancing on her, cutting the distance between them with long, dangerous swipes of their sharp claws. Miranda went for her automated pistol, firing an arc of bullets that tore through the two remaining creepers.

Her Omni-tool buzzed, as the automated voice of the facility's VI droned. "Facility two and three have been compromised, rachni are loose. All Cerberus personnel make for the safe room."

"Contact Cerberus Command," Miranda ordered.

"Impossible, all long range communications with Cerberus have been disabled."

"Send an encrypted distress signal through our other channel," Miranda instructed, knowing there was a certain level of risk with her order. Their second channel could easily be hacked into and the signal could hypothetically be received by any passing ship in the area.

She left her office, entering the narrow corridor, where a cacophony of noises echoed off of the walls of the corridor. The screams of frightened women, the shouts of dying men, but she made no inclination to go in their direction. She moved down the corridor, her only focus was on surviving. She had her pistol raised, and was ready to fire at the slightest sign of the creepers.

"Prepare recordings for distress signal."

"Preparing…" The VI replied.

A door that Miranda just passed opened with a soft swish, causing the Cerberus Director to instinctively spin on the spot to face the room. The Mess Hall had been turned into a battle zone; the tables had been turned over to form make-shift barriers, to keep the attackers at-bay in this desperate battle for survival. With the fresh crimson blood smeared along the walls, the floor littered with limbs, and a pair of mutilated corpses, as well as a few organs strewn along the floor. It was clear that the battle was won by the creepers.

Miranda was about to turn to leave when she heard a frantic whimper coming from under one of the turned over tables. She cautiously stepped forward, pistol drawn. "Who's there?"

"Director Lawson, thank God!" shouted a woman jumping out from her hiding spot. Miranda recognized the woman as one of the Doctor's assistants. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and there were splats of blood on the white jacket and brown pants she was wearing. "It was awful! Three of them came in out of nowhere; before we could even react they killed Freddie and Ramirez."

"Where are they now?" asked a terse Miranda. She didn't want to be bothered by the details of these nameless corpses. She needed to know where those damn creepers were.

The girl responded with a frantic yelp, while her eyes widened to saucers. Miranda knew immediately something was wrong, spinning around to find herself face to face with one of those creepers. The creature swiped at her abdomen, she tried to side-step but the claws of the creeper were still able to slash through her shirt and flesh. She let out a wince, before calling on her biotics, the blue energy easily wrapping itself around the now helpless creeper. Her biotics carried the creeper up to the ceiling, before smashing it onto the ground, the creeper's flesh and ooze splattered in several directions.

She didn't have time to celebrate the victory since two more creepers advanced on her. Not wanting to get too close to these potentially dangerous creatures, she reloaded her pistol and opened fire. Without kinetic barriers or armor, the bullets easily tore through the creature's flesh, both of them falling to the floor in several pieces.

Momentarily satisfied, Miranda went back to the cut on her waist, thankful to see that the cut wasn't very deep, even with the trickling of blood from the gash. She immediately applied the right amount of medi-gel to numb the pain and was pleased when the small wound began to close. In a matter of hours, there wouldn't even be a scar on her flawless pale skin, because of her tailored genetics and her father's tampering in his quest for perfection.

Miranda leveled her best icy glare and scowl at the assistant who was still cowering behind the tables, being utterly worthless. If it hadn't been for that damn assistant, she wouldn't have even needed any of the medi-gel. She left the Mess Hall without even a word to the assistant. Unfortunately, the hysterical assistant had finally been able to summon the strength or courage to do something, since she was now following Miranda like a lost puppy, letting out the occasional whimper and sniffle.

Ignoring the assistant, Miranda refocused her attention on her Omni-tool, calling up the VI to prepare a recording.

"Recording is ready to begin," responded the VI.

She took a deep breath, reciting the words in her head before she spoke them. "This is Dr. Miranda Lawson. I am sending this distress signal because our facility has been attacked. We have already lost two-thirds of our staff. We are running low on supplies and will not be able to hold out much longer, we are requesting immediate assistance. Coordinates are as follows…"

"Distress signal is launched," announced the VI, after a few seconds to record, process, and then send the signal.

"Is someone going to come?" asked the assistant, in between bouts of whimpering.

"Of course, it's only a matter if we're alive when they do."