Time for Project Lazarus to begin. Let's see how Shepard reacts to being resurrected.
Many thanks to AnneRene for betaing and her insights into Shepard's character :)
All copyright belongs to Bioware; I'm just taking a spin through their universe.
Chapter 3
The stasis pod lay behind Liara, as silent and unmoving as its occupant. Liara's voice was tight with unshed tears.
"If I give her to you, you'll be able to bring her back?" she asked.
Miranda frowned. "I already told you, nothing is certain. But since her helmet survived, much of her skull remains intact. So in theory, yes. I will be able to bring her back. Only scans will be able to tell us how much brain damage she may have incurred."
Liara turned back to the stasis pod, leaning over the frosted glass. She could just see the body, remains, Shepard. The shape of her helmet, the curl of a finger.
"I need to see her," she insisted. "I need to know that it's her."
"Who else would be in there?" The impatience in Miranda's voice was now very apparent. "Dr. T'Soni, the longer we wait, the less likely we are to be successful. We need to get her to our sterile and secure laboratory, where we can conduct tests and—"
"She is not an experiment!"
Biotics flickered on both women at Liara's outburst. The asari's face was cold, older than her years. Her fists clenched as she glared at the Cerberus operative.
"This is my friend, not something for you to put under a microscope! I've already lost Feron to the Broker." A tear fell down Liara's cheek but it did not soften her gaze. "I will not lose Shepard to you and I will not allow you to turn her into a Cerberus machine. I would rather destroy what's left of her right now than let you put some chip in her head."
At that, the Cerberus soldiers behind Miranda lifted their weapons, taking aim. Miranda stepped forward, her own biotics blazing higher. "I wouldn't try that if I were you," she threatened.
Liara smirked. "You're powerful for a human, but I am an asari. Biotics are in my blood. Do not press me."
Miranda ground her teeth. "The Illusive Man has given me orders that she is not to be controlled. She is useless to all of us if she can't make her own decisions…according to him."
"Good. At least he has some sense, even if other decisions have been questionable. But my first demand stands. I want to see her. I need to know that it's her. Then you can take her."
At an unseen signal, the soldiers lowered their weapons. Miranda sighed but walked over to the pod, fingers moving across the controls.
"You have ten seconds. Then I seal her back up. You know this will not be easy," she added.
Liara's eyes had shifted to the glass. "Do it," she said quietly.
The seal of the pod slid back and in the cloud that rose up, Liara could finally see Shepard.
Her suit was blackened, scorched away in several places. The skin beneath the broken armor was badly burnt, red and black. Her legs looked broken—badly broken. The N7 was just barely visible beneath the grime, dried blood and burn marks. Steeling herself, Liara looked at Shepard's face.
The helmet was still intact, though one big crack ran across it. The glass was shattered and in the cloud generated by the stasis pod, Liara could just see her face. It was swollen and broken, but the curve of her nose was still visible. Her eyes were open. That should have made Liara break down; her emotions had been bubbling just beneath her skin for weeks. Those sharp grey-blue eyes that always saw everything, that could make you quake or smile in an instant-now they were expressionless, the whites of her eyes red with broken blood vessels. Her skin was bone pale, with bits of frost attached to her cheeks and what was left of her eyebrows and eyelashes. It was Shepard…and yet it wasn't. She knew the sight of her broken body would haunt her but for now, it gave Liara peace. They had found her.
She stepped back and let Miranda close the pod. "Do what you can for her. And keep me updated." Liara started to walk away then paused to say, "Do not make me come find you."
"Where will you be?" called Miranda.
"Hunting."
Awareness. Warmth. Fabric on her bare skin. Air on her exposed hands. Pounding in her head. It was all very confusing. Her mind struggled to process all the sensations. She expected cold, though she could not quite remember why.
Then there was the horrible taste in her mouth. So dry too. What had she lasted eaten? She tried to work her mouth to wet it but could not find the strength. Her mind drifted to smell then. Antiseptic, cleaning products, medigel and something pleasant—vanilla and coconut? It was nice.
A smooth sound came from somewhere to her right. A door sliding open? She wanted to open her eyes, see the inside of the Normandy medbay where she apparently had wound up once again. How much of a dressing down would Chakwas give her this time? But she hadn't quite remembered how her eyelids worked yet. She listened to the sounds, focusing on deciphering them for now.
"Her vitals are good. After that episode of cardiac arrest, I thought we might have hit a snag." The man's voice was unfamiliar and made Shepard want to frown but her face would not respond. Now she was getting worried. Who the hell was on her ship?
"I adjusted the frequency of the nanites after we shocked her heart. Everything seems to be stabilizing. Keep the anesthesia at a steady rate and we'll keep her under observation for a few more days. The Illusive Man will be pleased. We're close." That name tugged at something in Shepard, almost distracting her from the unfamiliar accented female voice.
Something beeped and someone moved closer to her. Shepard could feel her heart rate picking up. She was vulnerable, surrounded by strangers, and she could not move. Panic began to race through her as instinct took over.
Open! she ordered her eyes. You have to open!
"Miranda, these readings—she's reacting to outside stimuli!"
"Impossible," scoffed the woman. "Run your numbers again. She has enough sedative in her to keep her asleep for another week."
Shepard felt her eyelids flutter. A brief flash of light, so bright: she closed her eyes again. But her breathing was still picking up with her heart rate. Were they trying to sedate her? Where was Dr. Chakwas?
"Damnit Wilson, she's waking up! Give her another dose!"
Footsteps came closer and Shepard forced her eyes open, trying to focus as tears welled up against the pain of the light. A woman leaned over her and Shepard struggled to raise her hands, trying to gather her strength to fight.
"Shepard, you're all right. You're in a secure facility being treated for your injuries. Don't fight us." The woman, Miranda, placed a hand gently on her shoulder, pressing her back into a pillow. Shepard suddenly realized she was naked beneath a sheet. Feeling vulnerable was not something Commander Marion Shepard was used to feeling. There was only one way she reacted to it.
It was pure instinct that made her lash out with her biotics…except the reaction was not what she was expecting. The light raced up and down her body and she shrieked. It was too much! Too much sensation, too much raw power. She screamed again and then her body jerked, out of her control.
The woman above her set her jaw. It was surprisingly strong looking in such a feminine face: pale skin, soft cheeks, soft blue eyes, thick black hair. Shepard took in all these details and then screamed again.
"She tried to use her biotics. Damnit, she's not ready. Sedate her!"
"I did! It's not working—"
"Out of my way!"
Coolness filled her veins and Shepard felt all her muscles relax at once. The jerking of her limbs stopped and her mind felt cloudy. Sedation always left a heavy feeling on her tongue: that's what she had noticed when she had first started to come out of it. There were important matters to think over: her biotics, the situation, her vulnerability. But it was becoming too difficult to focus on one thought. Already they were vanishing from her mind like a wisp of cloud.
"That was close," said the man, his voice muffled. "We almost lost her."
"I knew your numbers were off. Run them all again."
Shepard cracked her eyes open one more time. Miranda was still leaning over her. Shepard registered a faint note of surprise to see the concern in her eyes. It was not reassuring as Shepard drifted away again.
This time, it was definitely the sound that got her attention first. An alarm, blaring and bouncing around in her skull. Shepard groaned. She was not ready to get up. One hand reached out to turn off her console and encountered blank air.
Disoriented, her eyes opened and she groaned again. God, it was bright. It was also not her quarters on the Normandy.
"Shepard! Can you hear me? Wake up, now." That bossy voice was coming from her omni tool. Shepard ignored it for a moment, sitting up to look around—before grabbing the sheet to her chest. Holy shit, she was naked! What kind of trouble had she gotten into?
She was in some type of medbay, much more advanced and better equipped than the Normandy's. Shepard would have been impressed if she were dressed. Well, this is damned inconvenient. Where the hell am I am supposed to put my pistol? If Garrus think this is supposed to be funny...
"Shepard? Wake up! This facility is under attack, you have to get out of that bed." Shepard looked down at her omni tool and frowned. It looked…different. The interface was new, less crowded than before. She hadn't heard about a software upgrade.
"Who is this? And where the hell are my clothes?" she growled back at the voice.
"Good, you're awake. There's a pistol and some scrubs in the locker on the other side of the room. Get dressed. They're coming for you."
"Still haven't answered my questions." Shepard threw back the sheet and went to swing her legs over. The sudden pain made her gasp. Every inch of her body ached. She felt like she had been run over by a herd of krogan.
Glancing down at her legs as she fought to catch her breath, her eyes widened. Her lower legs looked cracked, an orange glow almost emanating from them. Lifting up her hands, she saw some of the same cracks along her arms and hands. Her throat tightened. It was like she was healing from some major wounds…but instead of seeing the angry red of skin knitting back together, she saw orange. "Fuck me," she whispered. "What's wrong with me?"
"Your incisions aren't quite healed yet, but you have to move now," ordered the voice again. "Do you want these mechs to kill you? Get the pistol."
"I don't normally take orders from strange voices coming out of omni tool, particularly one as bitchy as you," snapped Shepard. Still she got up and hobbled over to the locker, grateful to see the loose grey pants and shirt of a nurse. She barely noticed the logo on the front of the shirt, caught up in the sensation of clothes on her bare skin. It felt strange. Should clothes feel strange?
On the shelf below there was a pistol. Shepard grabbed that too, smiling at the feel of it in her hand. It was light, lighter than expected, but promised to pack a punch. She wanted one of her own.
"My name is Miranda Lawson," said the woman, ignoring the bitchy comment. "I was part of the team that—healed you. But now this facility has been attacked, someone has hacked our mechs and set them to take us out. I'm in lockdown at another end. I'll be out of here as soon as I can. But you need to leave and head to the shuttle. I've marked the location on your omnitool."
"Yeah, I want to talk to you about that. I didn't ask for an upgrade. And what's with the pistol? It's so light."
"In the bin next to the cabinet there are thermal clips. Equip it to your pistol and bring a few with you."
Shepard grabbed a few and slid one into the pistol. "I like this design," she said, heading for the door. "Where's my crew?"
Ashley. Chakwas. Joker. Liara. Tali.
Garrus.
"Not here. We can talk more once we're on the shuttle…"
"Are they safe?" demanded Shepard. Please, tell me they're safe.
"They're fine, Shepard. Would you focus on yourself for right now? A group of mechs are trying to hack into the room next to you. Don't get hit."
"Great advice. You sound like my old squad leader."
"Oh and Shepard? Don't use your biotics."
"Why?"
"Just trust me." Miranda sounded beyond exasperated. "You went years without using them. Can you last a few more minutes?"
Shepard grumbled something under her breath but slid into place behind a desk as the door opened. Questions later. Action now. Hadn't that always been her style?
She sighted on her first target as she peered around the corner. There were five, two making their way down the low set of stairs, three clustered by the door. And the fire system. Shepard grinned and then moved. Her first shot hit the fire suppression system, making a cloud leak out into the air. The second shot made the tank explode. Three mechs flew across the room and while the other two stumbled, she stood up and fired one handed. Two shots, two dropped mechs.
Her brow furrowed and she looked down at her cracked hands. For someone recovering from severe injuries, that felt pretty good. Smooth, fast, faster than she was used to. She swallowed down the nerves that were suddenly bubbling through her stomach. Something really bad had happened. What was it?
She moved out into the corridor. Some fires had erupted in corners and there were a few crumpled bodies in the corridors, all dressed in black and white. Shepard moved over to one man to check vital signs but he was gone. Then her eyes caught on the symbol.
Cerberus.
Her jaw clenched until it practically creaked. She was in a Cerberus facility. "Son of a bitch!" she shouted, suddenly moving quickly down the hallway and ducking into what looked like a laboratory. She went right to a console, looking for information, a way to call out and get the Alliance here, anything!
Her eyes caught on a log entry. 'M. Shepard, 451.' Fingers trembling, she reached out to play the entry. "All major organs are now functional with rudimentary neurological functions," said the male voice. "We have begun moving from simple organic reconstruction to biosynthetical fusion. Thus far, our total cost has been 4 billion credits. I don't know where the Illusive Man gets his money, but I wish he'd throw some my way every once in a while."
Shepard stopped the log, feeling like her heart might beat out of her chest. Rudimentary neurological functions? Biosynthetical fusion? What did that even mean?
How long had she been in that bed?
And why couldn't she remember what happened?
"Shepard. You're stationary in one of the research labs. What are you doing? Get moving!" Miranda was back.
"Why should I trust you? Cerberus," she spat, heading for the door.
"Ah. I see your observational skills are as sharp as ever. Good," Miranda replied dryly. "We can go over that in more detail later. But right now Shepard we both want the same goal: to get out of this facility alive. Can we wait until we're in the shuttle to do the Spanish Inquisition?"
"My team better be safe or I swear…"
"Save the growling, Shepard. I'm en route now, but I have a squad of mechs ahead of me. Keep moving. I'll explain later."
Shepard moved with single-minded fury through the hallways, taking out mechs with ease. Then ahead she heard the sound of return fire. Someone else was alive. As she ducked around the corner, she went to brush her hair out of her eyes and froze. Her black hair was shorter.
Much shorter.
Where it had once fallen down to the middle of her back when she released it from its normal bun, it now barely reached her chin. She bit her lip to stop the sudden anxious trembling and shoved the questions into a very small corner of her mind. This station was under attack. If she wanted answers, she had to make it out of here first. With no protection, healing scars criss-crossing her body, and biotics out of commission, picking up some back-up (even if they were Cerberus) seemed like a good idea.
Having refocused herself, she moved around the corner, assessing the situation at lightning speed: one man, held down by mech fire from across the courtyard. The glass of the walkway the man ducked behind was cracked. Shepard set her jaw and walked forward.
One shot took out the closest mech. The other four turned cumbersomely to fire but she ran and slid to hide behind the walkway, wincing as the movement pulled at various scars. The man stared at her wide-eyed.
"Shepard? What the hell are you doing up?" The man was in the same black and white uniform, with the yellow Cerberus logo on the front. But his dark brown eyes were large and intelligent: not the mindless minion she had pictured in her head. His skin was as dark as his eyes, but did not show signs of injury.
"What's the sit rep?" she asked.
He shook his head, then leaned over the railing to take another shot. He knelt back down, panting.
"I heard you were still a work in progress." His eyes lingered on her face and the orange lines on her hands.
"I just woke up," she said flatly, rising up to fire at another mech. One shot to the chest, another to the head and it dropped.
"I'm Jacob Taylor. You must be lost." A shot rang against the glass by his head and Jacob frowned. "Look, I'm happy to fill you in but let's handle one problem at a time."
"Fair enough." Together, they both stood. Shepard moved left, jogging and drawing fire, shooting back as she ran. Biotics suddenly lit up the room as Jacob pulled a mech toward him, shooting it in mid-air. Shepard raised an eyebrow, impressed by his control but returned her attention to the mech firing at her. She dodged one shot, ducking down low then popping back up. The mech dropped but her thermal clip gave out. Cursing, she reached for another, sliding into position. But by then Jacob had taken care of the last mech. With a groan it dropped and the courtyard fell mercifully silent.
"All right, Jacob Taylor. I need details, stat. Where the hell am I and what happened?"
The two soldiers faced each other down. Jacob ran one hand over his tightly cropped hair, looking at a loss for words.
"Look, I'm no doctor, okay? I don't have the best bedside manner. But you deserve to hear the truth straight. Your ship, the Normandy? It was attacked by a species called the Collectors. Completely destroyed your vessel and you got spaced. We've spent two years trying to put you back together. You've been comatose, or worse, for a long time."
Images. So many images. They crowded in her head, released by his words. The strange ship. Pressley's blood. Ashley running for the pods. Finding Joker. The golden beam.
Pain.
Cold.
Breathless.
Shepard gasped for breath, bracing her hands on her knees. "That's not, not possible," she said in between breaths. "If I died, how am…how am I here? It doesn't make sense."
"Are you okay?" She heard him move closer and she swung her pistol up without looking.
"Stay away from me. I just…need a minute." The sound of his footsteps halted and she closed her eyes, struggling to find equilibrium as the world seemed to rock beneath her feet.
"Two years?" she finally said.
"I don't pretend to understand the science behind it. That's Miranda's department. But yeah, you've been out for two years. I'm sorry."
"Am I a…a clone? An AI?"
"No!" exclaimed Jacob. "You're, well, you're Shepard. The real Shepard. Trust me, I saw you when they brought you in here, and I've seen you just about every day since. I don't know how they did it, but they really did. Bring you back to life, I mean."
"And my team?" she asked, her voice low.
"Twenty-one died that day, including you. I don't know the names. You can check a roster when we get out of here."
What about Nate? her mind screamed. Is he all right? And Garrus? Oh God, Garrus. I've been gone for two years.
But she was in enemy territory. She couldn't give them anything they could use against her later. It was bad enough to be in their debt without handing over all of her vulnerabilities. She forced herself to quiet her mind, to refocus. Get out of here, escape and get back to the Citadel. That had to be the plan. First, that meant survival.
She straightened up, swallowing tightly.
"You deserve to know what's what, especially with your history," said Jacob, crossing his arms. "This isn't an Alliance facility. They declared you killed in action. We're…"
"Cerberus," Shepard finished, cocking her head.
Jacob's eyes widened but he nodded. "The Illusive Man spent a fortune to bring you back. Things have changed."
"I don't care what they've done. I don't work with terrorists," snapped Shepard, lifting her gaze.
The sight of those infamous grey-blue eyes meeting his with such intensity was enough to make Jacob take an involuntary step backward. Then he steeled himself.
"Look, you can tell it to the boss. But right now, let's just get out of here. Someone wants you dead, and I didn't spend the last two years guarding this place just to let them kill you as soon as you wake up. So are you ready to get the hell off this station?"
Shepard was mildly impressed by the coolness in his voice but it was easy to ignore. She stalked past him.
"Like you would not believe."
"What the fuck are you doing?" yelled Shepard, raising her weapon.
The woman simply raised an eyebrow as she holstered her pistol. Her face was familiar: slightly round, thick black hair, those icy blue eyes. And her voice, Shepard definitely knew.
"My job. Wilson betrayed us all. He turned the mechs against the facility." Her voice was aloof, unfazed by the sight of the dead med tech Wilson at her feet.
"Why?" asked Jacob, completely dumb-founded. Shepard had a feeling he looked that way a lot.
"Does it really matter? He's a traitor, now he's gone. And it's time for us to get out of here."
"Are you always this high-handed with people's lives?" asked Shepard, incredulous.
Miranda looked her up and down. "Yes," she replied.
"I'm not going anywhere with anyone until a few questions get answered," said Shepard shortly. "I know you work for Cerberus. Where are we going?"
"To another Cerberus facility. My boss wants to speak with you."
"I bet he does," muttered Shepard. "I seem to remember ignoring his most recent message."
"And look where that got you."
Shepard's eyes flashed. This woman appeared to have helped…rebuild her. Yet she looked at Shepard like a bug, another lab specimen, one she did not find all that interesting. It was very different from the look of concern Shepard suddenly remembered.
"Is this the only shuttle left?" she asked.
Miranda nodded. "Unless you want to rot here with the mechs, I suggest we depart."
"What is with the attitude?" asked Shepard, frustrated. "You apparently saved my life. Did my injuries offend you that much?"
"You don't trust me because I'm Cerberus. I don't trust you because you're Alliance. Let's call it a day and move on."
Miranda turned around and headed for the shuttle, leaving Jacob to shrug at Shepard and follow after her.
"We need to run some memory tests, see how much cognitive function has returned," said Miranda on board the shuttle, her legs delicately crossed, looking through a holo and setting her omni tool to record. "Given your performance in the facility, we can accept that as evidence of your combat skills."
"Miranda, she just woke up! Give her some time to let her mind reboot," complained Jacob.
"We need to be sure that the Lazarus Project was successful before she meets with the Illusive Man," she replied evenly.
Shepard crossed her arms, ignoring the fact that her thin scrubs did nothing to protect her against the chill. She made the mistake of looking out the window of the small shuttle. Blackness, broken up by stars. It was so big, so empty.
She was there. Floating, drifting, powerless to save herself. Space opened up around her as she struggled to breathe, the leaking oxygen creating a small cloud around her. She shuddered and closed her eyes, willing herself to feel the solidity of the bench beneath her.
Miranda cleared her throat softly.
"So you were raised aboard various space stations by your parents. What were their names?
"Ronald and Hannah Shepard. My father was killed in the First Contact War," said Shepard shortly.
"Yes. That seems to have been a formative experience for you. How would you describe your relationship with turians?"
Rough skin against her cheek. Broad shoulders. A wicked grin. Long fingers wrapped around her waist.
"Fine," answered Shepard shortly. "Officer Vakarian was an important member of my team. I was glad to have him."
Miranda raised an eyebrow at her. "That's inconsistent with what your record shows. Bar fights, negative comments recorded by the media, your attempts to keep Vakarian off your team…"
Shepard remained silent.
"You were attacked by a thresher maw soon after you enlisted," said Jacob, breaking the silence. "You and squad were ambushed on the planet Akuze. Do you remember that?"
"I remember that it was a Cerberus operation," replied Shepard, finally raising her head to glare daggers at Miranda. "Fifty people died that day."
"That was not a sanctioned Cerberus operation," retorted Miranda. "It was after that attack that you stopped using your biotics."
"Which reminds me: why can't I use them now?"
For the first time, Miranda looked slightly uncomfortable. "The Illusive Man gave me strict orders that you were not to be—altered—in any way. Same appearance, same personality, same Shepard. Reactivate you, in a way. But your biotic implants were completely destroyed, between the sub-zero temperatures of space and the crash onto Alchera. So when we rewired you, we…upgraded."
"You now have L5 implants," explained Jacob. "Your biotics are much more powerful than you've ever experienced. Your natural strength is already impressive. Now they're amplified. It will take some time to get used to. We weren't able to test them before you woke up."
This new surprise barely penetrated Shepard's mind. There was too much to absorb.
"All right, one more question. When we began reconstruction we discovered unexpected scars. Like those from a Caesarian section. Do you want to tell us about your child and why he or she is nowhere in your records?"
The biotic glow that suddenly lit up the interior of the shuttle took everyone by surprise. Shepard felt like her whole body was alight with power and fury. She leaned forward, more power gathering at her hands.
"You will not ever mention that. To anyone. As far as this galaxy knows, I never had a child and you will certainly never know who they are. Do I make myself very clear?" Her voice was deathly quiet. This was Commander Shepard, first human Spectre, the woman who had taken down Saren and stopped a Reaper invasion. Jacob suddenly understood why this was not a woman to be trifled with.
Miranda's own biotics flickered. "Do you want to shred this shuttle and die all over again? Stand down, Commander!"
"I would rather let all three of us die before I allow any more harm to come to my son. Promise me. You will never speak of this again."
The threat hung in the air.
"I promise," said Miranda finally. "Now stand down."
The biotic glow died in an instant, leaving Shepard dizzy. But still she leaned back against her seat and crossed her arms, her suspicious eyes watching the pair of them.
"I guess we have proof that your personality is intact. I can't wait to see how your interview with the Illusive Man goes," said Miranda dryly.
Shepard smirked and closed her eyes.
Next up, meeting with the Illusive Man and Shepard attempts to readjust to life. Garrus will be missing for a few chapters but don't worry. He'll be back :)
Please take a moment to leave a review! Thoughts, comments, suggestions! The few seconds it takes you to leave a note leaves me with a happy glowy feeling that keeps me writing for a long time!