Chapter 3

Miranda watched Shepard's progress on the station's internal security network as she tried to override the virus that had corrupted the security mechs' IFF programming. As project director, she should have had full administrative authority over the station's security systems but whoever had introduced the virus had staged an all-out hacking attack on the station's link to Cerberus' galaxy-wide communications network. The attack had triggered automatic security protocols that locked down network access for every person assigned to the Lazarus Project, including her. Such safeguards existed to protect Cerberus' other cells in the event one of them was compromised but right now, they were preventing her from shutting down the mechs that were tearing apart the station and killing her staff.

It had to be an inside job. The ease with which the intruder had found the master override for the station's security network and the fact they knew exactly which access node to attack to force the station's Cerberus network access into lockdown meant one of her staff was responsible. The existence of a traitor on the station bothered her intensely. Miranda had always prided herself for her ability to read people and the idea that someone on her staff had been able to hide such a plot was unthinkable. Right now though, none of it mattered. All that mattered was the survival of the man in the monitor she was watching. The life of every person on the station was of secondary importance to the safety of Commander John Shepard. Including mine.

Fortunately, Shepard seemed fully capable of taking care of himself. Death from asphyxiation, six weeks of cryogenic freezing, and two years of complete physical and neurological reconstruction seemed to have done nothing to dull his combat skills. She watched him gun down three mechs as if he was shooting at paper targets on a firing range.

Checkmate. Although she'd been unable to shut down the mechs or restore their programming, Miranda had been able to change their patrol routes away from Shepard. The traitor had tried to fight back but in the process had betrayed the system access code they were using, allowing her to track his or her location. The network lockdown had disabled remote access to the station's security systems and like her, the traitor was being forced to use hard-linked terminals. Server Room B. One of the maintenance staff maybe? Using the internal security network to locate all of her surviving staff, Miranda was able to quickly find her traitor. She gritted her teeth. I should have suspected.

Miranda checked back on Shepard and saw he was making good progress. It was time for her to go. She had stayed in one place for too long and according to the reprogrammed patrol routes she'd inputted, the security mechs would be making another pass down this corridor within the next few minutes.

"You're doing great, Shepard. Head to the atrium and I'll try to meet you there..."

The reflection of the mech gave her just enough warning to throw herself clear as a stream of slugs shattered the console where she had been standing a split second ago. With a casual flip of her wrist, Miranda threw the attacking mechs off a balcony with a wave of pure biotic power.

Wilson, you son of a bitch. I am going to kill you. She leapt off the balcony after the mechs, floating to the alcove below in a biotic field. Flipping her hair back, she checked the thermal clip in her pistol and made her way towards the shuttle bay.

A warning light flashed on Jacob's pistol as he fired a shot into a mech. Reaching out with his hand, he finished it off by slamming it against a wall with his biotics. He ducked back behind some cooling pipes and he ejected the spent thermal clip from his pistol. Realizing that had been his last one, he swore in frustration.

"I'm empty!"

Shepard didn't even take his eyes off his targets as he reached down to his belt with one hand and tossed Jacob one of the thermal clips he had shoved in his waistband. Jacob caught the clip, reloaded his pistol, and took down another mech as it stepped out from behind a doorway. Although Jacob had thought of himself as an above average soldier, having qualified for the coveted N classification while serving as an Alliance marine, Shepard was in a whole other league. He moved with the fluidity and economy of motion of a soldier who had faced every conceivable combat situation and knew exactly where to go and what to do on the battlefield. From what he had seen, he didn't think Shepard had wasted a single shot.

"Time to move, Taylor. Which way to Server Room B?"

Jacob pointed Shepard up a flight of stairs. Frowning, he jumped over an overturned table and followed Shepard. Something wasn't right. Ever since Wilson had contacted them, it seemed like mech resistance had gotten stronger. What's Wilson doing in D wing anyway? As one of the senior medical staff, Wilson's quarters had been all the way on the other side of the station. D wing was where most of the security and maintenance staff worked and lived. What if Wilson did this?

Jacob pushed his suspicions out of his mind. Wilson was arrogant, abrasive, and misogynistic but a traitor? After Miranda, no one had devoted as much time and effort into the Lazarus Project. Whenever the medical team announced a breakthrough, no one was ever as excited or eager to claim credit as Wilson was. Why would Wilson just throw two years of his own work away?

The sound of Wilson moaning in agony guided them to where he was hiding. The doctor had propped himself up against one of the servers and was grabbing at his leg where he had obviously been shot. Although he had hastily applied a tourniquet, blood was still seeping through his trouser leg.

"Taylor, find me some medigel while I take a look at his leg."

Jacob found a first aid station and tossed Shepard a medigel pack. Ripping open the packaging with his teeth, Shepard pulled up Wilson's trouser leg and applied the gel over the wound. As Wilson staggered to his feet, Shepard gestured at the wounded leg and nudged a disabled mech lying on the floor with the toe of his boot.

"Single shot fired at close range. You were lucky it didn't aim higher."

Wilson grunted in response.

"Yeh, I guess so. I thought maybe I could shut down the security mechs. But whoever did this fried the whole system. Completely irreversible."

Jacob crossed his arms.

"We didn't ask what you were doing. How did you even get here? You were in the bio wing."

As far as Jacob knew, Wilson was useless with technology. Brilliant as he was, Wilson had always shown a disdain for any technology he didn't directly need to do his work. The half empty pistol Wilson still gripped in his right hand caught Jacob's attention. I thought Wilson was useless with firearms. What the hell? The two disabled mechs on the floor next to the doctor provided a pretty strong argument for the man's combat abilities.

Wilson glared at him.

"Weren't you listening? I came here to try and fix this. Besides, I was shot! How do you explain that?"

Just as Jacob was going to respond, Shepard stepped between them.

"I don't care who set up who – those mechs are shooting at all of us. We'll sort it out later!"

Wilson looked like he was about to say something, but to Jacob's surprise he seemed to think better of it as Shepard shut him up with a simple look. Realizing Miranda hadn't contacted him since instructing him to go find Shepard, Jacob went over to a security console.

"We need to find Miranda first. We can't just leave her behind."

Wilson grabbed his shoulder.

"Forget about Miranda. She was over in D wing. The mechs were all over that sector. There's no way she survived."

Jacob angrily brushed Wilson aside.

"A bunch of mechs won't drop Miranda. She's alive."

Jacob had known Miranda Lawson for almost three years. In that time, Jacob had never seen a problem Miranda hadn't been able to solve with her potent mix of superlative intelligence, breathtaking natural beauty, and superior biotic ability and combat acumen. Many of her subordinates often mistook her indefatigable drive and determination for cold indifference, earning her the nickname "Ice Queen", but Jacob had come to realize her impersonal manner was simply a manifestation of her absolute professionalism and uncompromisingly high standards – standards she held herself to, not just her subordinates. She was one of the only people in Cerberus Jacob genuinely respected and the two had developed a strong working relationship. He'd once hoped it might develop into something more, but nothing had ever really come of those dreams. They had gone out a few times, but both of them had quickly realized he would never be able to keep up with her. But this is Miranda Lawson we're talking about. Is there a man in the galaxy who could match up?

She was by far the most formidable person he'd ever met and demanded perfection in all things, including those she chose to become close to.

"Then why isn't she here? Why haven't we heard from her? There are only two possible explanations: she's either dead... or she's the traitor!"

Once again, Shepard stepped between them, this time grabbing both of them in an iron grip.

"Enough! Miranda woke me up and warned me about the mechs. She's not the traitor. We can worry about that later. Right now we need to get to the shuttle bay. You two can either shut up and help me get there or I'll leave you here and find it myself."

Releasing Jacob and Wilson, Shepard stuffed a few packages of medigel into his pockets and walked away. Glancing at Wilson for a second, Jacob called out to Shepard.

"We need to work together. If I tell you who we work for, will you trust me?"

Wilson arched an eyebrow. "This really isn't the time, Jacob."

Jacob shook his head, glaring at the other man. "We won't make it if he's expecting a shot in the back."

Wilson snorted and threw up his hands. "If you want to piss off the boss, it's your ass."

Shepard looked back and forth between them both warily. Jacob turned to face him. "The Lazarus Project, the program that rebuilt you—" He drew a breath. "It's funded and controlled by Cerberus."

The moment of truth. Since Cerberus had turned rogue, the Alliance and the Citadel Council had attempted to shut it down on more than one occasion, often utilizing black operations involving their most elite and secretive special forces operators. Operators like one Commander John Shepard.

Jacob didn't know much about the man, but he'd glanced at his classified service history. Shepard had taken down more than a few Cerberus projects. That exposure meant Shepard knew as much about Cerberus' more unsavoury activities as anyone outside the Cerberus command structure. When Shepard's gun hand moved, for a moment Jacob thought the man would simply gun them down but instead Shepard simply holstered his pistol and put his hands on his hips.

"Cerberus. So you work for the Illusive Man?"

Jacob nodded. Shepard's steely grey eyes seemed to be staring right through Jacob as his brain processed what the Cerberus operative had told him.

"I wiped out my share of Cerberus projects when I was a Spectre. Back then, they were trying to kill me. Why the change of heart?"

Jacob took a deep breath, feeling like his continued survival depended on his answer. Although Shepard's posture seemed relaxed, his hand was sitting just a few inches from his weapon and Jacob had no doubt such a man could kill both he and Wilson in less than the blink of an eye. Jacob chose his words carefully.

"Those answers are way above my pay grade. But basically, things change. The Alliance declared you dead. They gave up. Cerberus spent a fortune to bring you back."

Seeing that Shepard gave no indication of turning hostile, Jacob continued.

"Look, I'd be suspicious too. But I thought you deserved to know what's what. Once we're off the station, I'll take you to the Illusive Man. He'll explain everything. I promise."

Shepard responded with a simple nod.

"Fine. I'll find my answers one way or another but that can wait. Let's move out."

Miranda dodged a barrage of heavy assault cannon slugs as the YMIR mech advanced towards her. Taking cover behind some supply crates, she checked her pistol and cursed silently. Half a clip left. Not that a full clip would make much of a difference.

The heavily armoured YMIR mech had taken pretty much everything she'd thrown at it without breaking stride. She looked down at the platform below. Just ahead, through the giant hanger doors and across the next platform, was a shuttle docking bay. Too far to make a run for it?

Her eyes widened as an idea came to her mind.

The room she was currently in was a repair bay. Running up through the wall the YMIR mech was advancing along were a number of fuel pipes going into the hanger bays. She doubted igniting the fuel would cause a big enough explosion to disable the mech, but it might just be enough to knock it off the platform, down to the next level some sixty metres below.

Taking a deep breath, Miranda waited for the hail of slugs to subside, then sprinted as hard as she could towards the gulf separating the repair bay from the docking bay. Using a brief burst of biotic power, she launched herself off the edge of the repair bay platform. As the mech slowly turned its guns towards her, she rolled onto the docking bay platform, turned, and tore two of the fueling pipes out of the wall with her biotics.

Goodbye. Miranda switched the ammunition setting on her pistol to incendiary and fired a few shots, covering her head as the leaking fuel exploded. Just as she had hoped, the explosion knocked the mech over the edge of the repair bay platform and it crashed to the bottom of the station, shattering like a cheap child's toy. Brushing herself off as she got to her feet, she walked over towards the last intact shuttle. The omnitool on her wrist beeped and a grim smile crept across her face.

Just in time. Since her close call with the mechs earlier, she had managed to program the internal security network to track Wilson's movement with the station's sophisticated DNA scanners. She frowned. According to the holographic display the omnitool projected, Wilson wasn't alone. Shepard and Jacob were also with him.

She went to the security door leading into the docking bay and drew her pistol. The door opened and Wilson almost ran into her. His face turned pale as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Miranda! But you're..."

Miranda finished his sentence for him.

"Dead?"

She placed the barrel of her pistol in the centre of Wilson's chest and fired. The traitor flew backwards, his body collapsing at a shocked Jacob's feet.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Miranda looked at Jacob coolly. Being the station's unofficial security officer, she was a little disappointed Jacob hadn't picked up on Wilson although she acknowledged the doctor had done a surprisingly thorough job of covering his tracks.

"My job. Wilson betrayed us all."

Shepard didn't even blink as he gestured at Wilson's lifeless form.

"You should have taken him alive. Seen what he knew."

Miranda studied Shepard for a moment, trying to decide whether his casual attitude towards seeing a man gunned down right in front of him was genuine or just an act.

"Too risky. I've put too much time and effort bringing you back to life to let you get killed now."

"You really think Wilson's capable of that?" Jacob asked incredulously.

"Not anymore," Miranda answered, glancing down at the pool of blood Wilson was lying in for emphasis.

"I had a feeling Wilson was just looking for a chance to shoot me in the back."

Answering the questioning look on Jacob's face, Shepard elaborated, "Wilson's leg. Single gunshot wound to the thigh, inflicted at extremely close quarters. Slug passed through his entire leg without nicking an artery or hitting the femur. I was a Marine officer for eleven years. I've seen more than my share of self-inflicted gunshot wounds by soldiers who wanted to get off the line."

Miranda was impressed. Maybe Shepard really is more than just another empty-headed grunt.

"Good instincts. Some people are far too trusting ever to see that coming." She glanced at Jacob, but he ignored her. "Come on. Let's grab this shuttle and get out of here. My boss wants to speak to you."

Shepard crossed his arms. "You mean the Illusive Man? I know you work for Cerberus."

Jacob had not done much to impress her that day, and she let him know it when they made eye contact. "Ah, Jacob. I should've known your conscience would get the better of you."

Jacob stood his ground. "Lying to the Commander isn't the way to get him to join our cause."

Maybe Jacob has a point. This had not been how she had planned the Lazarus project to end. She had hoped they could reawaken Shepard in a more... controlled environment.

"Well, since we're getting everything out in the open, is there anything else you want to ask before we go, Commander?"

Shepard gestured at the station around them.

"You're the Lazarus Project's director, aren't you?"

"That's right. I put two years of my life into this project – into you."

Miranda smiled thinly, barely allowing her impatience to show through and hoping Shepard would pick up on it. He either didn't or chose not to.

"What does Cerberus want from me?"

"Maybe you should ask the Illusive Man when you meet him. He poured virtually unlimited resources into Lazarus. Obviously he has some kind of plan for you."

In truth, even Miranda did not know exactly what the Illusive Man had planned for Shepard. If he wanted only the knowledge contained in Shepard's brain, there were far cheaper and easier ways of attaining it than resurrecting him as a living, breathing human being. She knew the Illusive Man's plans likely required Shepard's willing cooperation, although she wondered how he hoped to secure that. Not knowing exactly what the Illusive Man had planned bothered her, but she trusted that he knew what he was doing.

"Where are we going?"

"Another Cerberus facility. The Illusive Man is waiting for you there."

Miranda kept her answers short, trying to convince Shepard to give up his questioning. Fixing a cold gaze on her, he tried to break her down. She had no doubt the tactic worked on most people, but it wouldn't on her. After years of having had her father use the same approach on her, she had eventually learned to resist it.

She veiled her thoughts behind an emotionless facade until he finally gave up.

"I've had enough of this station to last a lifetime."

Miranda suppressed a smile at the irony of his statement.

"Or two, in your case. Come on."

"Before you meet with the Illusive Man, we need to ask a few questions to evaluate your condition."

Shepard slowly turned his head towards Miranda, his eyes drawing a line up her long, slender neck, over her chin, along her delicate features and across her flawless, porcelain skin before settling on a point just above her eyes. It was a trick he'd learned over the years to give the impression of eye contact without actually allowing the other person to look into his eyes. A simple look could betray much and Shepard had no intention of giving that kind of advantage to the blue-eyed brunette sitting across from him. She was possibly one of the most physically beautiful women he'd ever seen, almost distractingly so... She's just another pretty face. Focus!

"Come on, Miranda. More tests? Shepard took down those mechs without any trouble. That has to be good enough."

Jacob had been relatively easy to break down. Despite working for an organization like Cerberus, Shepard recognized some familiar attributes almost immediately. Jacob was a straight shooter and a professional. A soldier, just like so many others Shepard had encountered through the years. No coward, but just trying to stay alive and impress his superiors like all the rest. Two goals that are too often at odds with each other in practice.

Shepard turned his attention back to Miranda. Dressed in a skintight jumpsuit that did nothing to hide her seductively curvaceous body, he had no doubt she'd used her attractiveness to her advantage with great effectiveness before, but it was the cold, calculating intelligence in those expressive azure eyes that he was the most wary of.

"It's been two years since the attack. The Illusive Man needs to know that Shepard's personality and memories are intact. Ask the questions."

Jacob reluctantly pulled up a program on his omnitool.

"Okay. Records show you were a colony kid. Lost your parents when slavers hit Mindoir. You enlisted and led troops during some heavy fighting, most notably on Torfan. Do you remember taking on some batarian slavers?"

The Cerberus operative gave Shepard an apologetic look. Shepard ignored it. The question gave him pause and he struggled to keep his composure. He thought back all those years ago and suddenly he was there again, directing his men in the middle of a firestorm, watching them get cut down but unable to do anything but press on.

"Those bastards were dug in deep in a fortified bunker. I sent a lot of good soldiers to their deaths. That's how it had to be," he answered evenly. Whatever Cerberus wants out of this, it's probably not a good idea to let them get too deep into my head.

Jacob nodded sympathetically.

"You got the job done. That's all that matters."

Clearly uncomfortable with the questioning, Jacob turned to Miranda.

"Satisfied?"

Miranda kept her gaze fixed on Shepard, a gaze that gave him an uncomfortable feeling like she was testing him.

"Almost. Let's try something more recent. Virmire, where you destroyed Saren's cloning facility. You had to leave one of your squad behind to die in the blast. Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko was killed in action. Why did you leave him behind?"

Admiral Cullen's words echoed in Shepard's mind. They had sounded callous and cold-hearted at the time but since then he had learned how true they were.

"Being in command means that sometimes you give orders knowing that your people are going to die. That can't affect your decisions." Shepard's eyes hardened. "Kaidan gave his life for the mission. Without him, I couldn't have stopped Saren. He died a hero."

Miranda wrote some notes on a holographic datapad. Shepard noticed she used an actual stylus instead of the keyboard. Writing was a rare skill. He hadn't seen anyone take notes by hand since Admiral Cullen.

"Your memory seems solid. There are other tests we really should run..."

Jacob cut her off.

"Come on, Miranda. Enough with the quizzes. The memories are there and I can vouch for Shepard's combat skills personally."

Miranda looked at Shepard again for a moment, then slipped the datapad and stylus back into a pouch on her belt.

"I suppose you're right. We'll have to hope the Illusive Man accepts our little field test as evidence enough."