Sorry for this being a shorter chapter, I haven't been feeling too hot recently. As always thank you for the favs, follows and reviews, it really helps me continue writing this.


Walking lazily through the halls of the Lazarus Project, Jacob Taylor rubbed the back of his neck, his black body suit's collar slightly too tight around his throat. Night was upon them, the security head doing a final sweep for the day before leaving the facilities in the care of the mechs while everyone slept. His footsteps echoed through the hallway, much to his annoyance, anything not allowed clearance within the building was likely to hear him before Jacob had a chance to catch any offender, making his job slightly harder. The lights of the facilities would remain on overnight, however it never stopped the creeping feeling going through the man's spine as the silence greeted him with every check of a room or pathway. Concluding the daily sweep, Jacob headed to the security wing to activate the patrol mechs, the inbuilt routine almost second nature as it had been ingrained in his mind for two years. Nothing unusual had ever happened while he was stationed on Lazarus, but Jacob supposed it was better to be safe than sorry if anything should occur and he was not around.

The main section of the wing opened, the man swiftly walking towards the command centre for the security. It was a large, sparse room; many consoles and screens greeting his view. Before him was a window that housed several large mechs, while to the left side of the area was another doorway hosting a room for surveillance purposes, thought it was generally locked to stop any form of tampering. Paying no mind to the other area, Jacob activated the command sequence for the mech's inbuilt patrol system, leaving it to do its programmed work. The large mechs came to life before him, their robotic mannerisms unnerving Jacob slightly, despite concluding this process many times.

"Online." Their audio devices spoke, the heavy sound of feet erupting, shapes of black and white emerging into motion as they headed towards the exit of their confinement.

Peering at the mechs as they walked out of their stationary room, Jacob went over the final phase of extra security, typing several input commands into the terminal. More, smaller mechs passed the window, their tone a less mechanical presence than their counterparts; looking much more humanoid as they started to chatter to themselves in a female voice. Absentmindedly, the male Operative gazed to the left side of the area as he typed, the subconscious part of his brain registering that the access panel to the surveillance room was green, opposed to its normal orange locked appearance. Looking away from the area, Jacob concluded his routine only to have his mind pull back and shift the man's stance to face the camera room, his conscious now catching up, doing an almost double-take.

The sound of the mechs footsteps continued to clang in the stationary room as Jacob swiftly pulled out his M-5 Phalanx side arm, both limbs raised gripping the weapon as the man tentatively walked towards the opposite doorway, his stance ready for any confrontation. Inches away from the room he delicately drew an ear to the entryway, attempting to hear any sound or signal of another being within its confinement. Withdrawing, hearing nothing, Jacob tapped the green access panel, the doorway greeting him with a cheerful chime as it opened.

"Freeze!" Jacob commanded, his side arm pointing defiantly outward at the opened room.

The blank appearance of several offline monitors entered the man's view, the rooms typical fitting unchanged; a singular chair was turned facing the exit with roughly ten or more screens and several devices to record all surveillance footage for storage stationed upon a desk. The space was rather small despite its fitting, though no Lazarus employee was typically stationed within the room, only ever being used if an emergency arose. Despite this, the screens were supposedly continually operational showing all current situations of the entirety of the facilities, unlike the picture that was greeting Jacob's vision; all bar one was offline, the far right terminal showing the Lazarus labs that housed Shepard's now functional body. Jacobs's dark complexion creased in confusion, seeing no other being within the area, leaning upon the desk to activate the surveillance terminal housing all recorded files. A large stream of data flowed upon a small windowed panel beside the object, listing all its records before abruptly halting mid stride, a warning command flashing continually in orange.

Trace detected. Files: 28/87HI5 - 56/GE23 - 72/6CQ1 - 61/615H - 1/782FD copied to exterior device. Purge detected within recent records. Please specify query.

Peering at the only working monitor, Jacob promptly swore under his breath.

"Shit...The boss is going to love this..."


A cold, unnatural feeling tugged at the subconscious of a wounded mind. Dark, murky waters surrounded the dream like world that enveloped Shepard's sleeping state before an abrupt feeling crashed through the barriers of his lucid dreaming, hearing voices, his senses desperately attempting to stay within its current confinement of blissful rest. The sound of rapid breathing registered in his mind as a deep pulsing pain enveloped his heightened awareness, suddenly panicking as a final thought registered within his conscious, the black night stars the conclusion before he had plummeted towards the greeting ice giant. A strangled inhale of breath erupted within his lungs as his eyes attempted to open, the sharp white flash of a clinical room greeting him as Shepard continued to slip in and out of the remnants of sleep, eyes blinking rapidly adapting to the area surrounding him.

"...My God Miranda, I think he's waking up!" Shepard heard a rugged voice address the room.

The sharp sound akin to the walking of a high heel punctured his hearing, wincing as his eyes scorned the bright room around his senses, his vision doubling as he attempted to focus only to see a continual blur of shapes. Seeing a black and white form pacing towards him, Shepard realised that he was laying down upon some form of table, feeling soft padding greet his back while attempting to focus on something, anything to make sense of what was going on. The form drew closer to stand to his left side before Shepard registered the pulsing pain erupt within his mind once more, groaning as he continued to inhale erratically from shock.

"Damn it Wilson, he's not ready yet! Give him the sedative!" A female form stood beside him, commanding the other being.

Now forming some coherent sight, Shepard was able to see a woman dressed in a white suit, her dark hair flowing down past her shoulders as she looked at him with ice blue eyes. The woman appeared to be concerned, however there was a mix of pure anger sewn within her expression that played across her almost perfect features. Utterly confused, Shepard raised a left hand to show some form of awareness only to have the woman gently bat it down.

"Try not to move Shepard." The woman addressed him. "Just stay still, try to remain calm." She looked across to the other being within the room.

Try to remain calm? I think my head is about to implode!

Shepard attempted to form words, only to have them string outwards in a mix of nonsensical mumbles. Feeling as if he was about to pass out, he rolled his head slightly to the side attempting to stabilise himself as the contents of the room followed him with every roll, the pain worsening with each pulse of his blood.

"Heart rate is still climbing, brain activity is off the charts!" Shepard saw that the other man was also standing next to him, to his right, seeing only the lack of hair atop his head. The woman peered across to him from Shepard only to move where the other man was standing moments later. "Stats pushing into the red zone, it's not working!" The woman abruptly pushed him out of the way to stand next to a console.

"Another dose, now!" She snapped, the man hurriedly typing at another terminal. The sound of a warning signal linked to the monitoring systems erupted, the audio stinging Shepard's ears as it continued to pulse. Lifting his head slightly, he peered at the back of the man who was hurriedly inputting commands into the systems linked to Shepard's body, the tick of the warning signal quickening as Shepard's irritate breathing worsened.

Suddenly Shepard felt a tender lull pull at his mind as the extra shot of sedative started to take effect, his head softly falling back upon the padded table while his eyelids grew heavy with sleep. His breathing stabilised into a deep rhythm, his head turned slightly the right as he blinked trying to stay awake, feeling the pain start to ebb away.

"Stats falling into normal range, that was too close, we almost lost him." Absentmindedly, Shepard heard the male speak again, his sight greeted with the view of the woman peering down at him.

"I told you your estimates were off." She turned away, reprimanding the man. "Run the numbers again." The woman returned her gaze back to Shepard.

As his mind clouded with the haze of forced repose, Shepard's expression creased into a mix of confusion. As the woman peered down at him, her appearance seemed tentative, her gaze almost too soft as she looked into his own eyes. He had seen the expression before somewhere, though as his conscious drifted, he wasn't able to complete the train of thought, taking a deep inhale of air as his eyes closed, slipping into a deep sleep, the woman's face the last coherent thought within his mind as he accepted the call of endless slumber.


"Don't ever do that again." Miranda seethed, turning away from Shepard as she paced to stand next to Wilson. Anger rarely coloured the Operative's features, her exterior always calm and collected. However the recent event had seen their project almost wasted for nothing, and she was having none of it.

"I specifically stated that there was an error in your calculations and you still went ahead without consulting me. What the hell is wrong with you?" She demanded.

Wilson remained silent as he typed the last inputs within the terminal before him, his face a mix of anger and guilt. He inclined his head slightly downwards as if he had been a child caught in the act of opening a sweets jar without permission.

"Wait." Miranda put her hands up in mock surrender. "I get it, you wanted to prove something. Your ego couldn't let go and that's why you did it anyway. You couldn't cope with the fact that you feel diminished around me and so you wanted to show me how wrong I was. What a surprise."

"That's not -" Wilson turned to snap at the Operative.

"No you bloody well listen to me. I don't care that you dislike me, I don't give a crap that you seem hell bent on ruining my work. But don't you dare jeopardise the project again because no matter the protests or disagreement from our employer, I will shoot you in several unpleasant areas of the body. You risked a billion credit investment just to sooth your ego and you have the nerve to tell me that I'm wrong?! Get the hell out of my Lab!" Miranda icily stared at Wilson awaiting his departure.

Still not muttering a word, Wilson ran a hand over his smooth head, walking swiftly from the console and exiting the facilities. Eyes like daggers, the Operative watched him leave, stopping herself from continuing to shout at him as he left. Bringing a hand up to her temple, she sighed deeply.

"You're bloody lucky I'm not going to report this." She uttered.

Turning back to face Shepard's slumbering form, Miranda decided to monitor his condition as a way of soothing herself, busying her mind with menial tasks of checking the systems plugged into the Commander's body and mind.