An: Well, here's another chapter for the weekend. I'm slowly working through these chapters (in my attempt to give an appropriate time oversight into her Cerberus interactions, while I wait to get to the ME2 time frame) and hopefully you all still enjoy this. If I'm lucky, the end of the school year should mean a lot more writing, and quicker chapters, but you never know.

Enjoy all, and leave me a review if you liked this newest chapter.

Waking up Tuesday morning, Miranda groaned pitifully as she rolled over, and every muscle in her body clenched in pain. She was sore beyond comprehensible values, and pushing herself up from lying on her bed took upwards of five minutes to accomplish. Whimpering, she held her stomach and walked to her shower; showering like she had the day before, but making sure that she didn't take as long. Wrapped in a towel, she dressed in a tank top and shorts much like she had the day before, but opted to leave her hair down until she found out what exactly she would be doing in her Assault Training sessions.

Lightly doing her make up, she darkened around her eyes and ran her fingers through her drying hair before she laced up her tennis shoes and attempted to stretch her sore legs before breakfast. Gasping in pain at the sudden movement, she pushed through the pain and stretched her muscles; breathing heavily when she stood straight and made her way to her door before her terminal's alarm blared.

Walking to the cafeteria, she looked around and noticed she was alone, until Sergeant Buckner pushed out of the gym doors across the hall and walked up behind her. Smiling, he rested a hand on her shoulder, and shook her lightly to get her attention. "How are you holding up, Lawson? Muscles feel good and sore?"

"You have no idea," Miranda said, turning to face the Sergeant with a hand resting on her sore stomach muscles. "I could barely get out of bed this morning, let alone walk to my bathroom to get a shower."

"Well, that's to be expected. It means I did my job right. Try and keep your legs moving, and eat a couple bananas while you're here. The potassium will help," Buckner suggested, walking forward and taking a banana out of the baskets of fruit that were placed around the cafeteria. Handing it to her, he clapped her on the shoulder again and started moving towards the line that led to whatever food the cooks had prepared that morning. "If they don't work, and you start having muscles cramps, you can opt to visiting the hospital wing. They can give you potassium supplements to take every day until they stop hurting."

"Thanks," she nodded, holding up the yellow fruit in her hand. "But, this should be alright. You just worked me hard yesterday. I'll be fine."

"Keep it up, Lawson," Buckner chuckled as he went to get his food. "You'll be back in the gym with me sooner then you would like."

"Don't remind me," she whispered under her breath, as she made her way to her usual seat and slowly peeled apart her breakfast. Looking out the window as she tore pieces of the banana off and placed them in her mouth, she looked up from the planet's grassy hills to the bright blue sky that hung overhead. Sighing, she tried to imagine how life at the facility was now that she was gone, and what exactly her father was doing. Was he making another creation like herself and Oriana, or was he putting all of his money forward to get back his newborn investment and kill his adolescent one? What of Oriana? Was she safe and happy in the arms of her foster mother, or did she lie awake at night and stare forward blankly, wishing she could find the words to call out her sister's name? And Niket...what happened to her long lost friend? She hadn't seen him after she got Oriana and left the facility, and she had no way of knowing if he had been hurt in the attack, or if he managed to get away unharmed.

Shaking her head, Miranda stood and threw her banana peel away before she left the cafeteria and looked to her omni-tool for directions to the firing range she was ordered to report to. Aimlessly turning corners, and barely taking notice of the signs that hung overhead, she found the doors that leading into her destination. Pushing through them, she emerged in a dark room that was lined with weapon benches and had paper targets hung at the far end of the room. Standing in one of the lanes, was a woman Miranda had failed to recognize, but smiled at politely when she turned and smiled at her with excitement.

The woman before her was gorgeous by Miranda's standards, and the young teenager couldn't help but admire the light brown curls that fell over the woman's shoulder and around her soft, delicate face. Her eyes were bright blue, and shimmered even in the darkness of the room around them. She was dressed a white, skin-tight cat suit that proudly displayed the Cerberus logo on her chest and flattered every curve that the woman possessed. Moving towards her, the woman extended her hand and introduced herself in a saucy, English accent.

"Hello, dear. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Lillian Novachek, but you can just call me Lily. If I'm correct, you are the Lawson that everyone has been talking about. Miranda, right?"

"Yes," Miranda nodded, mimicking Lily's contagious smile. "Though, why has everyone been talking about me?"

"The Illusive Man has plans for you darling. He's donated more money and attention to this facility in the past two days then he has in the past ten years. No doubt he's keeping an eye on you, and planning the perfect time to fully integrate you within the organization as a top Operative. But, until then, you still have a few more things to learn, and since we are in the shooting range, you have Assault Training today."

"Correct," the Aussie nodded. "A friend of mine here told me that Assault Training was basically gun handling. Sorry to reveal this, but...I've never used a gun in my life."

"That's fine, dear," Lily smiled, motioning for Miranda to follow her to one of the weapon benches. "I'll teach you everything you need to know, and I'll make sure to make it fun. No doubt it won't be as physically daunting as basic training with Darren, but you will be asked to participate in a few live sessions with mechanical targets. At first they'll just be simple targets, and you have to distinguish between enemy and friend, but eventually I'll send in live mechs that have been rewired to be less dangerous than their security counterparts. I'll build you up to the real action, so you have nothing to be afraid of."

"I've handled mechs before," Miranda sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she relived the many sessions in which she had waves upon waves of mechs sent after her. "But, never with a gun. I've always relied on what biotics I had, and the tech expertise my father taught me."

"Well, that's all I do when it comes down to it, but a gun is helpful. It helps stun your enemy if they're mechanical, so you can get in and disrupt their circuits before they advance. And, of course, if they're organics, then it can do quite a bit of damage aimed at the right place."

"No doubt," she nodded, watching as Lily messed with a submachine gun and did a cursory check before handing the gun to her trainee. "What's this?"

"Your best friend," Lily answered, materializing an identical gun from the weapon strap circled around her thigh. "I'm a big fan of this particular submachine gun, and since we seem to have a similar fighting style, I'm going to introduce you to my favorite weapons first. I like to be traditional, and use my submachine gun, pistol and assault rifle the most. I leave the snipers and the shotguns to the soldiers and infiltrators."

Tilting the gun, Miranda examined the light weight machine pistol, and looked down the scope that was placed at the end of the barrel. Humming, she nodded, and turned to Lily who was waiting for the teenager to examine her gun fully. "Interesting. I can't offer much on my opinion of gun quality though, I apologize."

"No worries, love," her trainer laughed, urging her to one of the shooting lanes. "What you have in your hand is a M-4 Shuriken Machine Pistol. This baby is quite common, but she's effective, and fires a three round burst that can tear down biotic barriers and shields like a pro. Not only that, but it has a manageable recoil, and can even be used for long range shooting better than other submachine guns. The only bad thing is that she doesn't pack a huge punch, but the lack of damage is compensated for with how quickly you can fire out rounds and how many rounds this gun can hold. But hell, talking about the guns is only half the fun. Ready to try it out?"

"I don't know," Miranda answered truthfully, slightly apprehensive having the firearm at her disposal. "But, I suppose now is as good a time as any."

"Damn right," the Englishwoman laughed, resting her hand on Miranda's back and urging her closer to the shelf that stuck out from where she stood. "Move up, now. Don't be scared. Good, now, I want you to plant your feet and straighten your arms out with your dominant hand holding the gun's handle, and your supporting hand cupping your dominant hand. Make sure to keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to fire, and try and line up your scope with the chest of the paper target down your lane. Good, now when you're ready, hit the switch at your thumb and fire at will."

Shrugging a shoulder, Miranda followed Lily's instructions and breathed out slowly as she aimed for the heart of her paper target. Flicking off the safety, Miranda moved her finger to the trigger and took in a deep breath before she squeezed, and jumped as the three rounds exploded from her barrel and tore into the paper at the end of her lane. Laughing, she looked over her shoulder at her trainer, who simply nodded and urged her to continue. Smiling brilliantly, Miranda let her finger pull the trigger multiple times, until the heart and head of her target were gaping holes and the coolant in her thermal clip disappeared. Stepping back, she sat the gun on the shelf at her waist, and turned to the Operative Trainer who was chuckling softly behind her.

"Trigger happy, are we?"

"That was fun," Miranda laughed, looking back at her destroyed target. "But, I do have one question regarding this gun. What was it that you had put in it before I started firing? I thought all guns had a built in heat sink, and that clips of any sort weren't needed anymore."

"Cerberus is ahead of the game when it comes to many things, including our weapons. Thermal clips are a new addition to the market, but many military organizations and police teams find them obsolete. In reality, guns with built in heat sinks can't fire many rounds before they overheat, and you have to wait so long for your weapon to cool. And even after it has cooled enough to fire again, if you charge off into battle, the gun will overheat quicker this time, considering it's already overheated before. Heat sinks are a mess, so we've had some of our scientists develop thermal clips that we place in our guns, that keep our guns from overheating. The clips contain a coolant, but they prove to have the same downfalls as magazine clips that were used before we got rid of bullets, which is basically, if you don't have any clips, you can't fire."

"And why doesn't everyone update their guns and use this?"

"Because it's Cerberus technology, and people are too worried about our name to figure out that their weapons will explode in their hands sooner or later," the Operative said, running her fingers through her hair. "People are ignorant, Miranda, but they'll learn sooner or later. We have a few people who are selling thermal clips under their name instead of our own, and then transferring the money to the Illusive Man. Silent contributors to our cause, I suppose."

"Will the ignorance never end?" the teenager asked whimsically. "You'd think with the opening of this new world people would be quick to believe what they see, and grasp at what they could to get ahead of others."

"Many people don't know how dangerous the world is," Lily answered, looking into Miranda's deep blue eyes. "Even you, who had to outrun turrets to save yourself and your sister, haven't seen the brunt of it. It's a terrible time to be growing up...or living, but we have to fight, and we have to try and do something right so this galaxy will exist for the generation after us."

"What danger do you mean? You sound like you're speaking about more than thugs, or pirates."

"I am...but even I don't know. We just know that something is out there. We have our own team researching Prothean data, and we've extracted some of the information from Alliance scientific teams that were at the front of the excavation on Mars. There is something there about the Protheans that we need to take as a warning, but, as usual, ignorance blinds us, and we fail to take heed."

"You mean their extinction, don't you?" Miranda asked, tilting her head as she tried to remember all of the information that her father had told her about the Protheans. "Close to fifty thousand years ago, this entire race disappeared...while observing us. Thinking about it now, I understand what you mean. This race was extremely intelligent and powerful...how did they all just..die?"

"Exactly," the trainer nodded, looking to her feet and crossing her arms. "We don't know the details, but we know that something will happen sooner or later, and until we find out what happened to the Protheans, we will continue to fight the good fight, and make our stand in this galaxy. One of the ways we do so is training young kids like yourself, and I have to say that it is a pleasure that I have the opportunity to teach you. You have so much potential, and the Cerberus idea has been imbedded into you without force or teachings from our part. You were meant to be one of us, and frankly, I can't wait to see you surpass the ranks of your peers, and rule this organization alongside the Illusive Man."

"You seriously think I'll amount to something that important?" she asked with a rueful chuckle. "How can I? I'm a genetic reject that ran for her life in hopes that her crazy father wouldn't kill her. I risked my life, and the life of my only friend to save my sister...the one who was meant to replace me. I left him there to die, and ran for my life without trying to go back and save him. As far as I know, he's dead...and I'm here. Why do I deserve such greatness in my life?"

"Because you were born great," Lily whispered, stepping closer to the Aussie and curling her finger under her chin. Smiling, she wiped away one of the tears that had fell from Miranda's eye, and held her face in her hand to keep the teenager's attention. "You can blame your father all you want, but you are the reason that you will amount to something here. You've never picked up a gun in your life, but you're a better shot then some of the others that are training along side you, and have handled a gun since they were children. You're a strong biotic, since you managed to emerge from your father's hold alive, and you are an incredibly selfless being. You risked your life to save your sister, and then gave up that part of yourself so she could live a normal life. Not only that, but you're incredibly intelligent, and there is no way in hell you're dumb enough to actually believe you should be made a victim after all the torture you've endured. Now, get that mindset out of your head, and look to the future. Cerberus isn't about the past, and though you haven't gained the logo, you are one of us. Keep your focus on the road ahead of you, and you will be rewarded."

"How so?"

"The Illusive Man is quick to keep morale high," her trainer smiled, letting her hand fall to Miranda's shoulder. "He's probably already pulled some strings for you already. Just be patient, love, and work hard. Then fortune will become of you."

"I just...I don't understand. I'm spoiled here, and treated so well, even then I'm incredibly under-ranked. Why doesn't everyone see that Cerberus isn't as bad as they're making it out to be, and that if they have the ability to prove themselves, they will be rewarded in the long run? Why such the negative view?"

"Because not many people give us a chance," Lily answered. "And even though you might not believe it now, but you are our chance. Make me a deal, in ten years, I want you to find me, wherever I am, and tell me of all the things you have accomplished, and all the good you have done for humanity. Deal?"

"Deal," Miranda agreed, laughing as Lily touched her face once more and smiled brightly.

"Good. Now, let's try out some more guns shall we? Now that we've had an emotional bonding moment, might as well get over it with shooting things."

"Sounds good with me, what do you have in mind?"

"A heavy pistol this time. The M-5 Phalanx."

"Hmm, sounds like fun."

"Oh wait until you shoot this baby. You haven't seen fun unless you've taken a Phalanx into the battlefield!"

After hours of unloading rounds into an array of targets, Lily and Miranda parted ways once the bells rang out to alert everyone of lunch. Opting to eat one of the many salads prepared by the cooks, she frowned when she failed to see Skye saunter into the cafeteria after his morning training session. Eating alone, she finished her meal quickly, and set off the find the library where she was sure the young man resided. The signs pointed her in the right direction, and as she pushed through the doors, her eyes instantly gravitated to the mop of dusty blonde hair resting against one of the high-back lounge chairs.

Smiling, she snuck up behind him and leaned against the back of his chair; clearing her throat to catch his attention. Looking up at her quizzically, the questions seeped out of his face once he recognized her, and in response, flashed her a smile before setting his current read on the table in front of him. "Well, well, if it isn't my new best friend."

Smirking, Miranda rolled her eyes and moved to sit in the lounge chair across from him. "Do you, somehow, manage to function without eating?"

"I only manage to eat in the cafeteria during dinner. The rest of my free time I spend here. I've become fascinated with the Protheans, and I've read hundreds of scientific journals published since the discovery on Mars. Have you ever read any of them?"

"No," Miranda said, tilting her head in interest. "No, I can't say I ever had the time to sit down and read hundreds of case studies about the Protheans. Much less, any book really."

"Well, I try and keep up with today's scientists. Maybe all my knowledge will come in handy once day. Did you know, the Protheans gained their technology and intelligence from an extinct race that came tens of thousands of years before them? Scientists have found some remains from that empire, but not enough to gather any substantial information on them. All that remains of the past, is what remains of the Protheans."

"It seems to be a reoccurring theme within Cerberus to be interested in the Prothean race, and their history. I've read a few news articles here and there, but I haven't researched as extensively as some of the others here."

"You'll learn constantly while you're here, trust me. You don't need to research anything, just show up to your training sessions and put forth an effort. From there, everything you need to know, will be taught to you along the way. Speaking of which, how was your first Assault Training session?"

"I absolutely loved it," she answered with a glowing smile. "My trainer is amazing."

"Who is training you?"

"Lillian Novachek. She's so much fun to be around, and all morning, all we did was talk and fire guns at random things strewn about in this facility."

"Damn...you're so lucky," Skye sighed, sitting back dejectedly. "I have another infiltrator who trains me, and I'm almost certain that he's crazy."

Laughing, Miranda pulled her legs under herself and comfortably rested her head against her hand; looking across the table into the azure gaze of her peer. "Crazy you say? How so?"

"He's a paranoid conspiracy theorist."

"Say no more," she smirked. "I'm sure that leads to some incredibly interesting conversations."

"It's actually just a lot of mumbling on his part, while I work on modifying my sniper rifle and getting my shot," he muttered, shaking his head. "I basically train myself, and that crazy bastard just sticks around because the Illusive Man tells him to."

"Well, if you're to the point that you're teaching yourself, I doubt you'll be here much longer. You very well might be shipped off to your cell sometime soon," Miranda hypothesized, even though the thought of losing this stranger created an uncomfortable, and sickeningly familiar pang within her chest. "You've been here for while, haven't you? Surely you deserve to move on from training."

"I've been here close to a year," Skye nodded, rubbing his fingers against the light-colored stubble that clung to his cheeks. "I guess I'm a late bloomer when it comes to being an Operative."

"I seriously doubt that," she argued with a soft whisper. "I bet the Illusive Man has plans just for you, as he does for all of us. Maybe all you need to do is be patient."

"I've been patient, Miranda, but let's face it. He has plans for you. You're...well, you're... no doubt the Illusive Man has far greater plans for you then he does for me, or anyone else in this facility. Nonetheless, I will do what the Illusive Man tells me, and I will serve him with my undying loyalty."

"You sound jealous, Mr. Turnick."

"Maybe only a little," Skye confirmed with a smile. "But I can't measure up to perfection, and I accept that."

"I'm not perfect," Miranda insisted, with a cool tone that sent an icy chill shooting through the room. "Please...don't insist that I'm perfect, because I am no where close."

"Fine," he nodded, cold chills rising on his arms at the sudden flash of hot, white anger that appeared on Miranda's beautiful face. "I won't insist, but I will believe what I believe."

Seeing that he clearly hit a nerve, Skye pulled up his omni-tool as an excuse to break their eye contact, and checked the time. "I'm sorry," he began quietly. "But I have to return for my afternoon sessions. I apologize if I've offended you."

"You haven't," she insisted, even though every muscle within her was rigid as she stood from the lounge chair. "It's just a...sensitive topic."

"Well, even so, I apologize. Maybe I'll see you at dinner, if you'll allow me to join you."

"Of course," she nodded, crossing her arms tightly as the world 'perfect' seemed to echo menacingly within her mind. "I would love your company."

"Then I'll see you later," he said, nodding to her before he picked up his case study and turned to leave.

Huffing, her arms remained deftly locked under her breasts, while flames of anger spread throughout her entire body. She knew Skye only meant well, but she was light years away from Earth, and the oppressive hand of her father still lingered. Frustration and hatred boiled deep within her, and an irrational want took over as she imagined obliterating 'perfect' from every being's vocabulary. The worthless idea of perfection haunted her, and now every mirror that she looked into, all she could see was an empty sell – a faux human that just wasn't good enough.

Turning to the windows that lined the walls of the library, she moved closer and fought the urge to send her hand flying through the brittle glass. Instead, she reached out, and allowed the cool temperature to sooth the fire she felt inside of her. Weakened, she rested her forehead against the window and closed her eyes, sighing before she found the energy to speak.

"I swear," she whispered spitefully; her words squeezing out from between her teeth. "I will personally escort that bastard to hell, and take back everything he has torn away from me."

Even after another four hours of training, the tension between Skye and Miranda remained palpable. He spoke in a voice with no emotion, and she retorted with short, clipped sentences that merely hinted at the spite that resided within. They talked about nothing meaningful, and after so long, Miranda had to excuse herself before words passed from her lips that she would regret.

Returning to her room, her anger roared unchecked, and her biotics snapped around her dangerously. Clenching her fists, she pushed air out from between her teeth, and tried her best to calm herself. At that moment, her terminal rang out, and an email materialized on the screen. Settling herself in the chair before her desk, her eyebrow rose quizzically as she viewed the sender's name.

"Illusive Man?" she whispered to no one in particular. "What does he want?"

Miranda,

I have been observing your progress, and you have been doing extremely well your first few days, but I can't help but notice that a few things are bothering you. I've done some digging, and have forwarded you two letters you might find interesting.

-Illusive Man

Interest peaked, she pulled up the two links and waited for the information to download. A light ping rang out when the first file completed its download and covered her screen. Quirking her eyebrow, her eyes fell on a drawing of the Sydney Opera House and the name "St. Vincent's Hospital" printed beside it. Scrolling down, a written report took up the space of the paper, and a fancy doctor's signature was scrawled across the bottom. Thankful that the report was typed, she scrolled up, and started reading from the beginning.

First Name: Niket

Last Name: Unknown

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Black

Height: 6'1"

Weight: 175 lbs

Condition: Critical

Transported to St. Vincent's from the Lawson Corporation Dormitory Facilities. Currently in intensive care due to severe internal bleeding and the shattering of bones precariously close to significant organs such as the heart and lungs. Emergency surgery will commence while kin are found and contacted.

Reports will be filed periodically.

-Doctor Robert Taylor M.D.

Heart sinking, Miranda's hands shook as she swiped her sweaty fingers across her terminal screen to view the second page attached to the doctor's report. Eyes growing hazy, she blinked furiously in her attempt to clearly see the text residing before her, but ultimately failed when the blurry vision returned tenfold.

Private Transaction

To: St. Vincent's Hospital

390 Victoria Street

Darlinghurst NSW 2010, Australia

(02)8382 9360

Amount: $500,000.00

From: Miranda Lawson

Private Corporation

Request: As an official donor to St. Vincent's Hospital, I request that the amount of five hundred thousand dollars be donated to a current patient by the name of 'Niket'. Let this money pay for any surgeries, scans, and housing. Feel free to do with the remainders what you please.

Lips parted in a gasp, Miranda sat back and placed her fingers against her lips; two stray tears falling from her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. Silently, she thanked the Illusive Man, and took a moment to reread the transaction that he had put forward in her name. Sighing, she reached forward and selected the second file; a bright smile replacing her once worried one when she noticed that it was a letter to the Illusive Man from the social worker overseeing Oriana's adoption.

Illusive Man,

No need to make this longer then it needs to be. I've visited the family, and Oriana has bonded easily with them. She's clearly happy, and adapting well to her foster parents. No doubt, they'll be a wonderful family to her, and she will grow up properly.

I will continue monitoring the family, and visiting from time to time to make sure everything is working out fine.

TJ

Pulling up the original email, Miranda typed in a lengthy 'thank you' and sighed as all the stress that had built up within her seemed to slide off her like water. Niket was in good hands, and Oriana was happy; which were the only two things she had wished for since she had escaped from her father's clutch. Smiling, she sent the email to her boss, and turned off her terminal. Standing on her still sore legs, she flopped into her bed and burrowed down into her blankets; managing to sleep without any difficulty whatsoever.