My one and a half year old is not quite comprehending at the moment why mummy has been spending so much time on her laptop lately. Because mummy needs closureeeeeeee, little Rori!

A lone fighter jet slowly approached the remnants of Jump Zero like a determined snail making its way across a garden bed, the Alliance Gargarin Station positioned on the outskirts of the Sol System growing ever bigger in its line of sight as it inched closer and closer. The jet's propellers sputtered and sneezed, unable to maintain a straight course through the empty space. It was a relief to the jet's occupants to find the lights of the Jump Zero Station blinking and beckoning them towards it, functional and reasonably intact given that it was the first point of human defense systems that the Reapers would have encountered as they tore through the relay into Sol.

Inside the fighter jet sat two individuals, almost identical in features right down to a freckle, looking somewhat worn out and uncomfortably cramped within the confined space of the jet's interior. The slightly older-looking woman at the helm of the fighter cracked her knuckles, much to the annoyance of her sister before initiating an open line of communication from the cockpit to the station.

"This is Operative Miranda Lawson with her sister, Oriana Lawson. We are in need of immediate assistance; we have been traveling for four Earth days and require a place to dock safely. Requesting permission to land."

There was a lull in the comm as her audio message was transmitted to the station. She tapped her fingers impatiently against the fighter's console, waiting as the Station confirmed her identify via voice recognition for security given that she was not a member of the Alliance.

"Identity confirmed. Permission granted, Miss Lawson," a voice finally replied on the other channel. "There is a smaller undamaged auxiliary cargo port to the east of the Station that will be appropriate for you to safely land your craft. Follow the yellow and green lights to your right, and be careful of any floating debris."

Behind her, Oriana sighed in relief, eager to disembark from the fighter jet and stretch her legs. "Understood," Miranda replied, pulling backward on the fighter's steering as she turned the jet to change trajectory in the direction instructed by the Station's operator.

There was another buzz as the disembodied voice on the other end re-opened the comm channel. "I must say Miss Lawson, your timing is impeccable. We have been searching for you for some time now."

"I know," Miranda replied simply.

"You are certainly not the easiest person to locate, Miss Lawson," Hackett stated to the former Cerberus Operative as she matched his fast stride beside him. "I was beginning to think that we were never going find you."

"I assure you, I came as quickly as I could," Miranda replied in a formal and respectful tone. "Traveling without access to functional relays and with limited resources proved a challenge. If it were not for my resourceful sister, we'd still be stranded outside of the local cluster."

"I am pleased to hear that you have not lost your skills after focusing so long on striking Cerberus targets for the Alliance," Hackett continued on, leading Miranda through the uniform white and bleached hallways of the Alliance Hospital towards their destination. Heads turned as doctors, nurses and patients caught eye of the woman beside the Admiral, unsure of who she was but impressed by the perfect definition of her body and shaped features. As they approached and stepped into the decontamination program located just outside of the hospital's intensive care unit, their attire appeared to sizzle and sputter as the beam washed over them, removing their bodies of harmful bacteria and dirt."Your knowledge and skills are going to paramount if we're going to bring Commander Shepard out of her coma and onto the road to a full recovery, Miss Lawson."

Once the decontamination program beeped to signal that it had finished, Hackett and Miranda stepped out and continued into the intensive care unit, the smell of antiseptic alcohol thick in the air and burning at Miranda's nostrils. The beeping of machines and sounds of medical professionals going about their work brought back a sense of nostalgia for the former Cerberus Officer. It had been quite some time since Miranda had needed to utilize the extensive knowledge she harbored regarding human anatomy and physiology. She secretly hoped that her skills had not gone rusty since the completion of the Lazarus project.

Hackett led Miranda to a secluded and private room, its windows' blackened out for privacy against prying eyes, a pair of Alliance marines stationed dutifully outside of the door. Returning the respectful salutes of the soldiers as they snapped to attention, Hackett stepped back politely and beckoned to Miranda to enter the room before him, motioning to the guards that they were not to be disturbed.

Miranda eyes unconsciously darted around the room, scanning her immediate surroundings, taking in the sight of the limp form of a woman atop of a bed in the centre among a mass of older-style medical equipment, a familiar looking Drell sitting at her bedside quietly murmuring at his charge as he read to her from a book he held in his hands. The machines hooked to the woman beeped ominously, repeatedly and rhythmically, indicating that the woman still determinedly clung to life.

It took Miranda a moment to realize that the second monitor that was beeping in time to a rapid heartbeat belonged to another being not initially visible in the room; a small bump unnoticed under Shepard's hospital gown. Realizing immediately who the monitor belonged to, Miranda's hands flew to her chest, her heart rising in her throat.

"Oh, Shepard," she gasped in dismay.

"How much experience do you actually have with cybernetics, Doctor Michel?" Miranda asked the Earth-trained doctor as they both hovered around Shepard' bedside, her eyebrows furrowing together as she waved the flickering projection of her omni-tool across Shepard's still form. Kolyat had left the Commander's bedside, escorted out by the Admiral so that the two women could knuckle down to work. He had exchanged a friendly smile and nod to Miranda before placing a quick kiss on Doctor Michel's cheek, the former remembering him from back when Commander Shepard had assisted his father in recovering him in the Citadel.

Doctor Michel, tearing her eyes away from the impressive bosom that almost seemed to take up much of her line of sight, looked up to see Miranda waiting for her answer opposite of Shepard's bed. "I will confess not much, Miss Lawson," Michel admitted a little ruefully. "Save for the standard bone weave enhancements, biotic implants, the less complex cybernetics used in mainstream medicine... Commander Shepard's implants are unlike anything I have ever encountered before. To be honest I didn't even know that there were enhancements like hers even available."

"Well, I must praise you for how far you've brought her," Miranda replied in what Michel assumed was some form of positive acknowledgement. "You've certainly managed her injuries better than any other doctor would have done given the circumstances. I must request that your team of doctors are not involved any longer..." In response to this, Doctor Michel nodded more enthusiastically than she should have. "It is a shame that her leg couldn't be saved. We can approach that issue when it comes to it though... I should be able to re-grow one for her if I resources are available. Her liver function is not as good as I would have hoped, given how long it has been since she was injured... Might I ask what happened to her spleen? It's of utmost importance that she have one, in her condition."

"Damaged beyond repair," Michel replied sadly. "She received extensive injuries and shrapnel to the upper left quadrant of her abdomen. It appeared that a piece a debris practically speared her. We have been lucky in that Rear Admiral Shepard has been able to provide a sample of healthy spleen tissue for us to culture another one in the lab for the Commander. It should be ready for transplant back into Shepard in the next two weeks."

Miranda nodded satisfactorily in response.

There was a pregnant pause as the doctor watched the former Cerberus operative quickly scrutinize the medical notes from Shepard's time in the hospital, her tongue between her two front teeth, her eyes narrowing as she compared Doctor Michel's notes to the diagnostics her omni-tool displayed.

"I just don't understand what we are doing wrong every time that we try to bring her out of her coma, Miss Lawson," Michel admitted in the voice of one admitting that she was close to defeat. "To say I am stumped is an understatement."

Miranda's eyes continued to glance from her omni-tool readings to the datapad that Michel had provided to her, her eyes expertly skimming through the results of recent blood tests, the images from the Commander's latest magnetic resonance imaging.

"It's because her cybernetics are practically fried, Doctor Michel."

"Practically fri... say what?"

Miranda continued to skim the readings and diagnostics her omni-tool spat out. She took a step backward and sat down heavily on the visitor's armchair, her eyes widening, her mind processing the abundance of information. "How... how is it that she is still even alive...?" she muttered to herself, shaking her head at Shepard, a tone of admiration in her voice.

"I'm afraid you have me completely confused, Miss Lawson."

"The cybernetics maintaining a normal firing rate of neural impulses in Shepard's brain are effectively redundant at the moment, Doctor," Miranda explained. "It makes sense that her body is overreacting every time you try to bring her back to consciousness. The neurons are over-firing and her sympathetic nervous system is over-compensating to her fight-and-flight response. Thus her body is getting flooded with a barrage of hormones that are stimulating her to levels of stress that can be very dangerous. The cybernetics that we grafted into her body were meant to assist with this. I cannot figure out if they are fried due to what happened to her aboard the Citadel, or if something else has happened. Remember how most of our technology stopped functioning once the Reapers were destroyed and the Mass Relays in that chain reaction?" Miranda paused, nodding in Shepard's direction. "Wouldn't surprise me if it's what has also fried the Commander's implants. It is very unlikely that the cybernetics have become redundant due to lack of use in her comatose state," she added ruefully, noting the reasons that Doctor Michel's team had insisted were rationale enough to attempt bring her out of her coma. "I made very sure that Shepard's cybernetics were well equipped for the long haul."

A feeling of failure and disappointment overwhelmed Doctor Michel as it dawned on her that despite her years of experience and training, she had completely misread the diagnostics she had performed herself on Shepard's cybernetics and approached her recovery in the completely wrong direction. She hung her head in shame, gutted with the feeling that she had failed the Commander.

Miranda continued, despite noting the change in the doctor's affect. "I'll be frank. Shepard shouldn't have survived, Doctor Michel. The fact that she still with us, is still pregnant given the trauma and stress she has gone through, is an absolute miracle." She paused, her face softening as she looked fondly at Shepard's face. "Oh Shepard, there has never been anyone ever like you."

Disregarding Michel's data pad on Shepard's bedside table, Miranda smiled across Shepard's bed at Michel. "Well! Like most of the technology destroyed in the blast, her cybernetics can be fixed," she said confidently. "Time to get to work!"

Hope flooded Michel's chest. She silently thanked her stars that she had the sense to order on locating Miranda Lawson when she did.

"Leave it to me, Doctor" Miranda bounced up from her chair, turning off her omni-tool with a flick of her arm. "You get me whatever I need, and I'll bring Shepard and baby Shenko out of this coma safely."