A/N: I have finally finished planning out the full story, and there's still a ton left to go, but I'm always open to suggestions to improve it. Please review, constructive criticism welcome.

Chapter 4

Reaching the Graveyard

Tali sat silently, her back against the wall of the shuttle. Miranda sat across from her. She no longer wore the white Cerberus uniform, so perfectly designed to just slightly distract anyone, or rather men, she dealt with. Keep their eyes off the fine print in business deals. She had the feeling that she wouldn't be making any deals with anybody for awhile. Her clothing now consisted of simple black attire, lightweight for movement. It lacked any symbols of affiliation with any organizations. She hadn't thought of it when she purchased it at a small shop on Illium, but she realized the coloring could prove more of an asset than she would originally have assumed.

Tali was deep in thought. So much had happened in the past couple of hours. She was still unsure whether she could trust The Illusive Man's lapdog, or former lapdog as she claimed. Still, Tali knew she couldn't have pulled the trigger back in the derelict spacecraft, not if there was any hope at bringing Shepard back. Shepard. He had meant so much to her. No, she corrected herself, he still did. They might still be able to bring him back. As her thoughts turned to the Lazarus project, she noticed some faults in the planning. Voicing her concerns, she broke the uneasy silence that hung heavy in the air.

"I've been thinking, about this second Lazarus Project, and I seem to remember the first one took almost two years to complete. How will we acquire the sorts of funds necessary to maintain a facility for that time? Won't it cost more when we have to run our own facility? That is, if you haven't been double-dealing this whole time and are still working with the Illusive Man. You shouldn't have a problem getting your room then. You could kill me pretty easily in flight, right now, and then have Shepard all to yourself. I know you wanted it before."

Miranda sighed. She guessed it was her fault for being the second in command at Cerberus for so long, but it was going to take an impossibly long time for that image of her to be abandoned, nonetheless. She noticed the change in the woman who sat across from her. Tali'Zorah, once so resolute and reliable, as well as outgoing, who eventually reached out to even Jacob, a Cerberus operative. She knew what Cerberus had done to the flotilla. She had rationalized it as business, but now she forced herself to call it what it was- murder. It was amazing what she had been blind to when she worked for those killers.

"How do we pay for the facility? First of all, it shouldn't take even close to two years this time around. Almost the full time of the last project was spent developing the tech. We don't need to complete create anything new this time, just replicate the old. We can do this without the constant failure and endless tests we had to run last time around."

As she said this, Miranda leaned to her left, towards the small wooden table that attached into the wall at the end of the shuttle. Tali watched as she rapped sharply on the wood a couple times. She wondered if the motion held any significance.

After the strange gesture, Miranda began to speak again. "So, if the plans are already formulated, we just need to reconstruct the tech plans."

"But doesn't the Illusive Man have the plans? Aren't we going to have to at least try to replicate them from memory?" interrupted Tali.

"I've learned to never completely trust anyone except myself. Yes, the Illusive Man kept the plans. However, I scanned the blueprints and downloaded the data to a storage drive on my omnitool. I actually thought about deleting it after the Collectors a year ago. Glad I decided to keep it. I like being prepared for whatever happens.

"All I needed was someone who was capable of building the tech quickly. You're one of the most skilled engineers I've ever seen, assuming you haven't lost your genius since you've been off pouting in that junkyard ship."

Tali's anger flared at that statement. She had never wanted to hurt anyone more than she did at that moment. Her three fingers curled into a first at her side. She spoke, deceptively calm, the menace buried deep within the strained calm tone. "You think I was pouting? The man I loved, and who felt the same in return, is dead! Do you know what it means to even be accepted by a different race to our people? Have you ever felt the looks, the angry glares? Have anyone in your family had to sell themselves into slavery to pay off the debts that have been placed on you by every other species in existence? Shepard did more for me than even any of my people, and we probably won't be able to bring him back. You've never had anyone show you how good life could be, only to have it ripped away again after just a short year. Nothing will ever be the same again, not for me. Do not insult me, insult him by saying I'm pouting, like a child who got its toy taken away. You can never understand what I've been through, you, I believe the human term is bitch."

Tali leaned back, silent once again. Miranda sat, dumbfounded. The woman who sat across from her was the last person she would ever have expected to react like that. She had taken the young woman's reserved demeanor for granted, expected the helmet to hold back all her emotions. Miranda had always told herself that she had worked for Cerberus to improve humanity's role in the galaxy. It kept her blind from the measures they took to achieve that, kept down her sense of revulsion at all the atrocities committed in the name of humanity. Now she saw what it had done. She had told herself she was through with the monstrosities, the racism, and yet hear she was, assuming aliens had the emotional range of a VI. It hadn't mattered what she had said, it wouldn't care. It wasn't human. No matter how many times she sat there telling herself she hadn't meant to cause offense, the understanding that that statement meant she hadn't expected the Quarian, no, Tali, she forced herself to think, wouldn't be insulted by anything she said, not that she had attempted to be fair or honest.

Still, she couldn't show any weakness, she had to always seem strong, in control. Oh God, even now, despite all she told herself to the contrary, she hadn't changed at all. She tried to rationalize it, told herself she didn't show any weakness to any humans either. Well, at least not since Shepard, when she had opened herself up to him. She was so used to the lust of the fools she had been forced to work with, that she took the head-turnings, the not-so-subtle eye wonderings when she spoke with them, that she took it for granted all the men would be like that. She had guessed wrong. All the genetic engineering in the world hadn't prepared her for his rejection, the one man she had actually cared about, prayed that he felt the same. He had quickly ended those prayers, and no matter how gently he had let her down, the pain she had felt afterwards was no less diminished. Then when she discovered he'd rejected her for that Quarian girl down in engineering, it was almost more than she could take. She was perfect, or at least she had thought it at the time, and he had preferred someone he had never even seen before. He would rather have had a mask.

Then after his death, she told herself she had put all those feelings behind her, that she had accepted that even if by some miracle they did bring him back a second time, she would never be his. She had started forming plans for the resurrection, after she had left Cerberus behind, but everything seemed hopeless without their support, their backing. Failures, hopeless musings lay on crumpled paper that had scattered the dingy apartment she had found. That was when she first heard of the deaths. Subject Zero's had come first. It hadn't come as any real surprise; with a personality like that it had only been a matter of time before she pissed off the wrong people, people who actually knew how to handle a lone, insane biotic. Miranda couldn't exactly say she had felt sorry for the crazy freak; maybe she had felt a twinge of sympathy for the young girl Jack had left behind, inside that facility on Pragia. Still, she wasn't the same person she had been back then. When she escaped the facility that one day, something had snapped. Miranda doubted Jack could remember anything from those days beyond the fear. She felt no remorse, however. The experimental complex hadn't been her idea. She was barely into her 20s at the time of the destruction. That was when she was still just a lackey, just another name in a Cerberus file somewhere, yet to make a real impression on anyone important.

Everything about Jack had been utterly predictable, her wish to destroy the facility, her violent rages, detachment from the rest of the crew, her fight with Miranda on the Normandy- Miranda had known it all would happen, it was just a matter of when. Even her death had been almost tediously foreseeable. She had been off by herself on Omega somewhere, probably looking for one of the billions of people in the Universe she claimed had wronged her, when she took a sniper bullet to the head. Dead on impact. The exit wound had been clean, a perfect shot. Her body had been quickly cleared away. Her possessions would have been scavenged by some of the residents of the slums if she had had any possessions to her name. The psychopath traveled light.

Miranda had heard the report, and almost felt satisfied. She had never been one to revel in death, but she wasn't exactly about to shed any tears over Jack's death. And chances were that had either of them had the misfortune of meeting the other after their destruction of the Collector base, they probably would have ended up killing each other, anyway. But however expected the news had been, Miranda remembered the information. The years working for the Illusive Man had taught that anything could be important, every piece of information, however insignificant it may seem, could be used for something.

When she heard of Zaeed's, the surprise had not been too much greater, either. His own employees had tried to put a bullet through his head, for God's sake. The man clearly didn't have too many friends, an especially big problem when your enemies likely numbered in the thousands. It had been another sniper shot, but the man had survived a pistol at point blank range. They probably just scrapped that idea and went with the bigger guns.

Ashley Williams had been a bit more of a surprise. Miranda had never met the woman, but she had heard of her reputation. When she pulled her file, she realized the two of them had a surprising amount in common. Both had paved their own way, made a name for themselves in their respected organizations. Neither of them backed shied away from a fight. Neither of them had really trusted aliens, Miranda had also thought. She immediately tried to repress the thought, to lie to herself, tell herself she wasn't prejudiced, but no matter what she told herself she believed, the thought was there, underlying. But even Williams had claimed she wasn't a racist, every species favored their own. Miranda quickly adopted this philosophy. It helped with her guilt a little bit, but the feelings she was so ashamed of were still there, repressed, buried deeply.

Finally, of course, the two had both worked for Shepard, Williams even rejoining him in the final battle against the reapers. Miranda respected the woman's bravery. It was at that moment she finally made the connection. The deaths, all of them former members of Shepard's crew. Could it be just a simple coincidence?

And then she had heard of Jacob Taylor, gunned down alone in his own apartment. She had known him, known him well. Jacob wasn't the sort of person to cause grudges. And if he was attacked to get at Cerberus, it was a poorly done job, indeed. Jacob was just a soldier, barely more than a merc as far as the organization was concerned. His death wouldn't create too many ripples higher up the chain of command, but Miranda knew. She had known him for years, even had a fling that began one night when they were both drunk in a bar. That had been the only time she had ever drank. Then they had both worked on the Lazarus project, albeit with very different objectives. Jacob was there to do the usual grunt work. Stand still at the entrances with a gun and look tough. Still, Shepard had seen something in that man, had taken them both with him. He had survived a reaper, the Collectors, helped stop the abduction of countless human colonies, only to be brought down by a single assassin with a pistol. What had they wanted with him? It was at that moment when she began to think that she had been right, that Shepard's team was being hunted down.

The silence stretched on, painfully. As the two continued to brood, Miranda realized she hadn't finished explaining herself. As she began to speak, Tali looked up, taking a second to register what she was talking about. Then it dawned her, the timeframe of the experiment.

"Last time over the 23 months the project took, Shepard was in cryo for over 22 of those. There were so many failures. Doing something the first time is always the hardest, and reviving someone who's been dead for two years isn't easy to begin with. Still, with what we need already essentially developed, we just have to build the machinery. And even that could probably be done in smaller scale. Shepard already has some of the parts we need already built in from last time. Unless something goes wrong, we should be able to bring him back in a month, a month and a half tops."

Tali watched as the woman once again knocked on the wooden table. She wondered at the gesture, but didn't question it. She didn't want to have to talk to that whore any more than was absolutely necessary. But her words had nonetheless comforted Tali, no matter how slightly. She wasn't sure what the probability of success was, that information had been ominously kept quiet. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to know. But ever since that night before they passed through the Omega 4 relay a year ago, she told herself she would do anything for him. He had saved her life time and again, and when he had needed her, she hadn't been there for him. He had died twice, but she could have saved him. This could be her chance to rectify those mistakes, to let her live with herself once again.

Tali decided she had to trust Miranda. If she truly had left Cerberus behind, unlikely as that seemed, than at least they could at least attempt to breathe new life into the cold body that floated somewhere in the vastness of space. And if she was betrayed, would she really be any worse of then she already was? She had already managed to completely revise her status as a savior to that of a selfish recluse in Quarian society. People she had often spoken with, considered among her friends had cut off all contact, left her to rot alone. She hadn't minded at the time. Solitude had been all she really wanted. But sitting here, floating through space, new hope reviving her soul, she regretted her silence. Had she really wanted that not a day ago?

Finally having made up her made to trust the black-haired woman before her, she spoke once more, with slightly less malice in her voice, although the bitterness could still be made out. "Shall we tell Garrus about this plan of ours, now?"

Miranda raised her head. Tali finally noticed the circles underneath her eyes, her pale complexion. Still unable to resist provoking the woman she added, "That is, if you don't collapse from exhaustion before you can send a message."

The words seemed to have no effect on Miranda whatsoever. Tali was ashamed to discover that this disappointed her a bit. Keelah, what was she becoming?

Trying to distract herself from the guilt she felt rising up in her, she opened a vid link in her omnitool, and sent a live video request to Garrus. She didn't have to wait long to receive the confirmed message, and then the scarred visage of Garrus Vakarian faded onto the screen. Tali felt a small surge of happiness at the sight of her old friend in spite of herself. "Well, Garrus, I see a month has fixed your pretty face."

"I believe you have an unfair advantage insulting my physique, Tali. It's a pretty safe area for you to go when all I can say in return is that your mask is looking as purple as ever," retorted the Turian. "But I get the feeling there's something more to this conversation than a simple hello."

"How do you know that?" asked Tali, coyly.

"Well, I could give you crap about my wonderful intuition and instincts, which I am certain are a factor in this, but the simple answer is that I see the wall of a ship behind you, and I happen to know that you no longer live aboard the Migrant Fleet, and you're obviously not just putting around for your own amusement."

"Well, in that case, I'll let you talk with Miranda, she's the mastermind behind this foolish plan of ours," Tali said nonchalantly, contradicting the sadness, bitterness, and shock she felt.

"Miranda? Are we having a reunion party? You know I've never been one for dancing," Garrus joked. His mandibles twitched slightly, a forced smile. What was Tali doing working with Cerberus? Something big was going on here.

Tali sent the video file to Miranda's omnitool through a private extranet link, which she received and opened. Neither of the two had been very close when they had worked together on the Normandy Sr-2. Not that they were enemies, but the two had never really had the occasion to speak. When the connection was made, neither was quite sure what to say, and the silence dragged on. There seemed to be a lot of that going around this shuttle, Tali thought.

Finally, Miranda broke the quiet, jumping right into business matters. "Hello, Mr. Vakarian. We, meaning Tali'Zorah and I, have a plan that we need your help with."

"Well, I'm going to have to know a lot more about this plan before I go signing any contracts," Garrus responded, interest piqued.

"We think we may be able to bring Shepard back." Hearing herself say it out loud gave Miranda some hope. She knew it didn't improve their chances of success, but just confirming the fact aloud made it seem more real, not just a crazy dream.

Garrus breathed in sharply. He would have expected something along those lines, if Tali hadn't been with her in the shuttle. Garrus had trouble believing Tali would work with Cerberus for anything, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it began to make. He knew about Shepard and Tali, everyone did. When he died the second time, part of her died with him. Hell, Garrus knew part of him did. He couldn't imagine what she was going through now. Desperation made someone do crazy things, and he knew that better than anyone.

"And why are you telling me this?" he questioned, challenging. "Cerberus never struck me as the type of institute that would go running to aliens to do all the dirty work. Is the Illusive Man losing his touch?"

"I see Tali hasn't told you that I walked out on Cerberus."

"Well then, I guess that means Tali is just as incredulous about this as I am."

"Unfortunately, that is a problem. I guess you'll just have to get over it when we work together once again."

"I have to say, I do like the way you assume I'm going to just throw myself at whatever it is you plan on doing. I get the feeling its something illegal, or at least something I'm not going to like too much."

"I'd say more of the latter. Even if it is illegal as well, I get the feeling the authorities might turn a blind eye to this one. They've never really gotten along to well with the Eclipse."

"Oh God, no, I've had enough adventures with those merc groups to last a lifetime," said Garrus.

"Fine," Miranda responded. It was time to play her trump card. "You should be fine on your own. I'm sure the assassins who've been killing Shepard's people will just leave you alone. After all, you seem to be a very amicable person, Mr. Vakarian. I'm sure they won't be able to bring themselves to kill you. As I understand it, when you've gotten it in your heart to kill someone, you're always open to the possibility forgiveness."

Garrus paused. Killing Shepard's people? Who had already died? He hadn't heard anything, but then again, he wasn't exactly keeping in touch. He would've expected to hear something in the news, but then again, people were killed by pirates and slavers everyday. Most of the people weren't all that famous, Shepard was the only known entity among them. Most probably wouldn't even get a mention, and if they did, it would have been only in passing. "Who's died? I haven't heard anything," he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

"Of course you haven't, these weren't major stories," Miranda said, confirming Garrus's suspicions. "I only knew because I kept a file to search the extranet with the names of Shepard and his crew. Any articles that were written I got. As far as who, they've already got Jacob, Williams, Jack, and Zaeed. Any of us could be next, but I'd say we're safer than you are right now, Garrus.

"Oh, and while we've been having this conversation, I traced your location back to the Citadel," she added. "So if I were you I'd rent a spot down in the wards, stay inside there, and don't open the door till we show up. They got Jacob in his apartment. I know I can't make you do anything. From what I saw at least, you were always kind of a hothead. We should be able to arrive at the Citadel within a day and a half. I'll explain everything in detail when we see you, assuming you haven't already made to many waves down there. I can't say anything else here, there's really no way of knowing if a conversation is being recorded. Please stay safe, Mr. Vakarian. If you get yourself killed in the next day and a half, bringing Adam Shepard back from the dead will be significantly trickier."

"Well, surprisingly, I've actually been able to keep a low profile so far. I might even take your advice on renting an apartment. But if this is being traced, then I can't exactly tell you where I'm staying," Garrus said, truthfully.

"There's more than one way to find where a person is," said Miranda.

"That's exactly what worries me," responded Garrus.

The connection cut off, linking Miranda to a page of past video histories. Absently scrolling down the list, she saw every single one involved business of some sort. She wondered what it was like to have friends. She had spent her entire adult life trying to make a name for herself, that she had stepped on everyone else to get there. Well, it was too late to worry about that now. She had made her decisions, had lived with them for years. It wouldn't help to start doubting herself now.

"Well, you actually got him to see reason. I stopped trying to do that two years ago," Tali joked. She sat there, surprised with herself. She couldn't remember the last time she had made a joke. Maybe she was finally beginning to turn herself around, go back to what she had been, before she became a shell. The full realization of what she had done, what she had wasted, finally hit her. Trying to stave off the feeling guilt, she looked around, trying to find a topic of conversation. It finally occurred to her that they had been traveling the entire distance in this shuttle, never stopping to board an actual star faring vessel.

"Miranda, how have we made this entire journey in this little shuttle? How far are we from the colony? Where's the ship we need to pick us up?"

Miranda smiled slightly to herself. Maybe the Quarian was coming back to herself. Just like with Garrus, she had never had the occasion to have a conversation with Tali, but somehow seeing her so hopeless had saddened even Miranda.

"We're already in a different system," said Miranda, a hint of a smile forming as Tali sat up straighter, leaning forward slightly. Miranda wished she could see the look of surprise and interest that was no doubt upon her face. "Cerberus paid for all my lodgings, my food, clothing. I never really had the opportunity to ever use my reasonably generous paychecks. Of course now that I left them, I no longer had access to their ships, and a decent ship is incredibly expensive, so I pooled my credits and got a top of the line shuttle. I hired several mechanics and engineers to reinforce the hull so it can stand up to the rigors of space travel, as well as expand the engine space so it could be outfitted with a small FTL drive. This is, unless there's another one somewhere that I've yet to learn about, the first space-worthy shuttle." She was unable to hide the small glow of pride in her voice. But what the hell, she deserved it. She wasn't slaving away for the Illusive Man anymore, she could enjoy herself.

Tali sat back impressed as the pilot's voice came over the comm system. The craft was big for a shuttle, and Miranda had outfitted the shuttle to have a separate cockpit. No use having expendable personnel be able to listen on their conversations. Miranda at least trusted Tali to keep her mouth shut about important objectives.

As she listened to the pilot say that they were approaching their destination, Tali began to think how strange it was not hearing Joker's sarcastic voice coming through the speaker. While she was reflecting on these thoughts, she heard Miranda's sharp intake of breath. Snapping out of her reverie, Tali looked out the small window Miranda had uncovered against the wall. As she peered through the small gap in the solid metal walls, Tali could not help but gasp as well. The last time she had seen this place, it had been engulfed with flames while she was jettisoned on an escape pod. Shepard had forced her to leave, before he made a kamikaze run at Harbinger, the final reaper left.

Jagged spires of metal hung suspended, seeming almost painted onto the starry backdrop in a beautifully disturbing portrait. Debris flew through the empty void, as the two ships, the ruins of the Normandy, and the gigantic dead reaper, its hull ripped apart by the explosions that had engulfed its entire being not five weeks ago. It seemed as if this wreckage had been there for eternity, a testament to the power of the Cosmos. Somewhere in the nightmare image, there floated the body of a savior, life no longer flowing through his veins, his pale body floating among his final work of art.

"My God," breathed Miranda. "It's a graveyard."