Disclosure 14
Shepard burst through the door to his apartment, with Miranda cradled in her arms. She was surprisingly light. The woman was alive, he knew, but she was wavering, appearing to be caught permanently in the haze between wakefulness and sleep. He had cleaned the blood from her face at least, but she was still in bad shape. Aside from a few conversations with Kaiden Alenko, he had never taken any real interest in the inner workings of biotics, tending to favor the sort of small arms and tech weapons available to Garrus and Mordin. To the uninitiated, and he was uninitiated, woman's wounds would looked far worse than they probably were. Chakwas had assured him of that over the radio, but it was hard to let anything overrule battlefield experience. Bleeding ears were never a good sign, as any soldier knew, and in most cases the consequences were bad, usually putting the patients out of commission. Sometimes killing them altogether.
Chakwas and Mordin were both standing beside the bed, looking prepared and professional, which was a reassuring sight. The shelves and bedside tables were piled with medical equipment; he'd had Grunt accompany Mordin down to doctor Michel's medicenter to collect on a favor the woman owed him.
Not a word was said, but as soon as he laid her down, both of the doctors set to work. Mordin began by checking her vitals and responses, while Chakwas set up an IV of some sort. He himself stood sentinel at the foot of the bed, feeling just as helpless as he had watching Miranda toil over Garrus after the gunship incident. And just like those tense hours, only one phrase was repeating itself, rolling around in his otherwise empty mind again, and again, and again. Miranda Lawson would not die. She could not die. He knew he couldn't take that. Not on top of everything else that had happened over the past few days.
As if sensing his helpless confusion, Chakwas began to explain her actions, knowing that mere understanding could elicit some measure of reassurance. "I've set up an IV cocktail, John. Proteins, minerals, amino acids, and electrolytes. Not to mention some rather strong pain killers. Any biotic action requires an enormous expenditure of energy. Quite simply she worked herself to exhaustion. We have to give her body the necessary supplies to refuel and repair."
"True." Mordin added, scanning Miranda's head with some strange device. "Most Biotics die of starvation and severe adrenal fatigue. Miss Lawson requires nourishment, water, and rest."
Shepard felt his spirits rise slightly. But the sight of her locked in a semi-comatose state was still painful.
"Nothing's go to happen for another few hours yet, Commander." Chakwas said kindly. "I'd take some time if I were you."
John stayed put, watching Miranda patiently. Chakwas decided to appeal to a higher authority. "Garrus?"
"John…" the Turian's voice cut neatly through his jumbled thoughts. "We have our own jobs to do. We have to rally the crew and plan our next move. She'll be here when you get back."
Shepard turned to him, and they stared each other down.
"Cerberus is on the move." The Turian said patiently. "What do you think she'd say if all you did was sit on your ass and wait for them to arrive?"
John glanced at the inert woman, then back at his friend. He nodded. "As anyone heard from Tali?"
"Zakera ward." Mordin answered quickly. "The Normandy self-destructed. Apparently Illusive Man's failsafes programmed far deeper than EDI's intelligence."
John nodded again, collapsing in a nearby chair. He felt the now familiar numb weariness overtaking him. No amount of bad news could surprise him anymore. "Get the crew together, Garrus. And let Oriana in. She can help take care of Miri."
The Normandy's crew were standing, lying and sitting in the apartment wherever there was an inch of free space. The Away Team, including a bruised Jacob and Tali, were scattered along the outer wall. Shepard had set himself up just in front of the bedroom alcove. Miranda was lying there, being tended to by Oriana. Ashley was at the young woman's shoulder, having taken up the role of Protector. The sight was very worrying to the crew; an entirely deliberate move on Shepard's part. He wanted them to feel the gravity of the situation, just as he did.
By this point, they all knew about the surreptitious relationship between John and his XO. A few had disapproved, he had no doubt. A few others, Joker included, were suffering in quiet envy, but after he had pulled everyone through the suicide/rescue mission unscathed, none of them had felt the right to judge anything he did on his spare time. They did know that if she were down, things had gotten very serious.
"Alright, here's where we stand," he began, "Cerberus has been indoctrinated at the highest level by the Reapers. The Normandy SR-2 no longer exists. As of this moment, the only true resistance the Reapers will encounter when they attack, and they will, is everyone in this room. We have no ship, we're low on cash, and at any moment now, the alliance and C-sec are going to be knocking on that door trying to get answers out of us."
"That's…"one crew member shook his head. "How?"
"I don't know." Shepard said. "But Harbinger spoke to me directly through the Illusive Man. They've been compromised, which brings me to the first order of business: Any of you with family should leave. Cerberus knows who you are, and they know you're with me. Your husbands and wives will be targets. Your children will be targets. Your friends, relatives… Anyone you've ever met will be targets of Cerberus if you continue to work with me."
"You're not exactly selling us here, Commander." Joker said, prompting two or three grim smiles.
"I'm telling you the truth, Joker. I can't do more than that. And I can't ask any of you to sacrifice your friends and family for this cause. However I'd like to say two things, for those who intend to leave. Firstly, if the Reapers have their way, every family from every species will die. Not just your own. Secondly, I did save your lives, so if you choose to leave, don't sell out those of us who choose to stay."
He looked around the room, meeting each eye. "Anyone who wants to bow out should do so now. There's the door. "
A few people rose sheepishly, including Hawthorne. Shepard gave them all an understanding nod as they exited the suite. Samara, who had been lurking in the shadows, followed them silently to the elevator, making sure they weren't about to stay and eavesdrop.
John addressed Zaeed next. "I can't pay you."
The old merc laughed in his gravelly voice. "You know what I was planning on doin' before Cerberus called me up, Shepard? I was either going to buy the farm, or buy shit-tons of explosives, and buy the farm. This's bin a fun ride. I got no plans'o getting' off yet."
John nodded. "thank you. Anyone else?"
"I can't speak for the rest of the crew, Commander," said Rupert Gardner, the mess sergeant, "But all my friends are either here, or in other cells. I'm with you."
There was a general murmured consensus.
"Thank you." Shepard replied gratefully. "Thank you all of you." He let out a long breath; the first hurdle had been overcome. "Now to business. The Normandy's destruction was not the only act committed by Cerberus today. They raided a hotel across the hub from here, and slaughtered a group of students, visiting from earth."
Murmurs of anger and confusion spread through the crew.
"Their intended target was the young woman sitting behind me." Shepard continued. He heard Oriana shift uncomfortably as all eyes in the room fell on her.
"No offense, but why her?" Kelly asked.
"Exactly!" Oriana agreed.
"Her name is Oriana Lawson." John answered, sparking a round of shocked looks. "I told you Cerberus was going after family members. Miranda's was first on the chopping block."
"John!" Ashley snapped. Tears were running freely down the young woman's face, and she sat shaking in her small, bleak chair, staring hollowly at Miranda.
"What about my parents?" She asked.
"Chances are they're already dead." Garrus replied.
Oriana burst into tears, sobbing loudly into the bed sheets.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ashley snapped. "Both of you!"
"That may have been a little bit much, Garrus. Kelly? Could you…?" Shepard gave the redhead a desperate, pleading stare. The young woman rose, and gently took Oriana into the bathroom. Ashley glared venomously at both Shepard and Garrus, and followed them. The rest of the crew had sat in perfect silence, watching the scene unfold.
Shepard cleared his throat and addressed them again, his voice which had been quiet and subdued before, grew strong and firm. "The important part, is that the attack was executed by gunships and soldiers in jetpacks. That means that Cerberus has a base somewhere on the citadel. They hit us, and we're going to hit back. Jacob, do you know where it is?"
The black man stepped forward. "I used to, Shepard." He said, "but that was a long time ago. They may have relocated."
Shepard turned to Tali. "You hacked Miranda's terminal, right?"
"Yes commander." The Quarian nodded. Shepard noted that she was nursing her left side; a rib had been cracked during their frantic life-pod escape.
"Search it." Shepard ordered. "I want any intel you can give me. I want to know where it is, how big it is, how many troops they have on staff. Entrance codes. Anything. Whatever you can find."
"I'll get right on it, Shepard." She said, moving to the back of the crowd and commandeering the work console.
"Let me know when you have something." John ordered. He stood up. "I'm going to talk to the hotel manager. See if I can't get you guys some rooms here."
"What can I do for you, Commander?" Neylanis, the hotel manager asked respectfully.
Shepard sighed heavily and took a seat opposite her. The Asari's office was located on a mezzanine overlooking the Zesmeni hotel foyer, and John found the noise of the large decorative fountain calming. "I know you already gave Miranda and myself the penthouse suite at the regular price-"
"I would gladly have given it for free, Commander Shepard." The manager told him happily. "You saved my daughter's lives that day."
John nodded. "I know. And I hate asking this, but I need more."
"Ask, Shepard." The Asari said.
"See, my ship was destroyed in the docking bay… the Normandy SR-2. You can check the records, if it hasn't reached the news yet. I managed to evacuate my crew, but until we have options, they need a place to stay. "
"Your ship exploded?" The manager asked carefully.
"Sabotage. The day I stopped Saren Arterius, I made some very powerful enemies." Shepard said. "Just need a temproary place for thirty people to hole up and regroup. More than a few of them are already staying here anyway. I'd completely understand if you don't want to-"
"You can have the penthouse floor." Neylanis told him gently. "It is empty anyway, and has rooms to fit twenty. Some of your crew are going to have to double up."
"That's very generous of you… are you sure?"
The alien sighed. "Commander, I've been running this hotel for six hundred years. I've built up enough money to run it on empty for another three hundred. Every room rented is enough to pay the maintenance costs for two empty rooms. And my daughters lives mean more to me than the entire establishment. On top of that, the mere news that you've chosen to stay here is an endorsement enough to bring me business for years to come."
"Thank you!" Shepard shook her hand, giving the alien an exhausted smile. "Would you believe you are the first piece of good news I've had in days?"
The manager smiled. "Think nothing of it, Commander. Good luck."