Chapter Twenty-Seven
Whispers in the Darkness
2208 CE
Reaper Moon, Micah System
At first Miranda had dismissed the racing of her heart. It had started slowly at first, a steady drumbeat against her ribs that was easily ignored. Then she followed one of the marines – Miranda did not know her name - out of shuttle and her boots hit the surface with a dull thud. The marines fanned out with effortless precision to cover every angle as Miranda watched transfixed. Despite the risk of feeling like a spectator, she left her weapons holstered. Her gaze roamed the massive docking bay. It was almost too much to take in, especially as it was eerily empty.
Their shuttle had landed in close proximity to a large door leading out of the docking bay. Pinpricks of light illuminated the whole space. Closest to them, circular light fittings threw out a strange, almost cloudy light. The light seemed to be swallowed by dark surfaces made of the same chitinous material as the station's exterior. The whole effect created a sense of both light and darkness. Of both welcome and foreboding.
Miranda's assumption was that she was anxious. For all her field experience, it had been decades since she had stepped out of a shuttle alongside a combat team. Although she reminded herself that this was a natural response, it did not dispel her feelings of inadequacy – that she might be the one to make a fatal mistake. Whilst scanning her surroundings, she briefly locked eyes with Liara. The asari responded with a brief, nervous smile, and Miranda realised that she was not alone in her lack of recent experience.
"Briggs, Wright, secure the shuttle and stay vigilant," Garrus ordered a pair of marines. "If your position looks in any way precarious, get the hell out and rendezvous with the Gallipoli. You can return for us when the LZ is secure."
Miranda's heartbeat intensified. What a lonely place to die, she the very edge of the Galaxy, with the nearest habited settlements full of scum who would sooner slit their throats than help them.
Garrus continued. "Vega, you're on point. Hopefully the sight of your face coming down the corridor will deter any trouble."
"Oh ha ha, cabron," Vega replied, even though he was quick to respond and clearly pleased to be given the vital role. "Just make sure you can keep up, old timer."
Despite his bulk, Vega's footsteps were swift and light as he made his way toward the docking bay exit. Nor did he seem to be daunted by their intimidating environment. By the time Garrus gave the signal for the rest of the team to move out, Miranda's heartbeat had escalated into a fierce pounding. It was only as she entered the door – unnervingly open and inviting – that she realised she was not anxious. Her reaction was excitement – although she was not quite sure why. At the unknown perhaps or having a purpose that was greater than herself . While she had often dwelled on her memories of her time with the Normandy, they had always been clouded by her memories of Shepard. Now, there was only the certainty that she belonged.
"Brings back old memories, huh Miranda?"
"What?" Her reverie interrupted, Miranda spun around to face Garrus. The turian veteran was looking at her expectantly, but she had obviously missed any signs that lead to the question.
Garrus picked up on her confused frown and was quick to spare her a guessing game. "Boarding the derelict Reaper during the hunt for the Collector Base. Seems like an age ago now, but I remember the eeriness of it well. It was-"
"Listen to you, Vakarian!" Vega called over his shoulder to interrupt. "You've been dying to reminisce with someone about that damn derelict Reaper for days! Lawson, whatever you do, don't get drawn into the rabbit hole! Just smile and nod."
Returning to the job at hand, Vega left the comment in his wake as he pushed forward. His focus returned to the route in front of him. Garrus was left to shrug apologetically, but Miranda's attention was already piqued.
"There are similarities," she replied as she scanned their surroundings from a comparative perspective. "And yet…this is something altogether different. More…organic. These walls don't look as though they were made, but rather…grown."
"Just makes it creepier," Garrus added in a laconic drawl.
Miranda found herself smiling in response. "Agreed."
"Which makes me wonder why you look as though you're out for a pleasurable stroll, Lawson," Ashley suddenly added from just behind them. "Are you planning on drawing that shiny pistol at your side, or is it just there for effect?"
The old Ashley – or rather, the Ashley of yesterday – would have injected venom into the comment. Instead there was more than a hint of teasing and an expectation that Miranda would take the bait. They could have been old friends.
Not wanting to disappoint, Miranda snapped her hand in an overly dramatic mnemonic to summon a swirling eddy of dark energy. "It's just for effect."
The moment could have been spoiled by Miranda admitting that she had not used her biotics in combat for decades, but she elected not to expand on her pithy comment. Especially not after Ashley responded with a warm smile that Miranda took to mean she was impressed.
Silence descended across the team following the exchange. A serious mood took hold as they progressed towards the heart of the Reaper station. Jokes and pithy comments were replaced with by the book observations and calm orders from Garrus. The wide corridor ahead was illuminated by the glow emanating from the fixtures set above them. The lights stretched out ahead – beckoning them forward like a welcome…or a trap.
Most of the team elected to use their torches to enhance the weak light. While Miranda did not go as far as drawing her pistol, she kept her biotics at the ready. The dark energy hovered just below the surface of her skin, almost impatient to be unleashed. For a brief moment, Miranda's thoughts wandered. Her intention was not to be complacent, but she could not help but wish that Jack were with them. The petite biotic would have been in her element stalking the shadowy corridors, completely unafraid, no doubt insisting on relieving Vega of his point duties. A brief smile ghosted across her lips before she gently let the thought go. For all her wistful thinking, Jack remained gone.
Miranda lost herself instead in the strange architecture of the Reaper station, finding evidence of her earlier assessment that the station had been grown rather than built. There was a strange sort of beauty in the sinuous construction that surrounded them. The walls were uneven in places, the corridors narrowed at various intervals but never to the point of being claustrophobic. Several times Miranda had noticed shafts overhead that seemed to go directly up and the beam of her torch was quickly swallowed in darkness. Every wall was lined with tubular conduits, akin to arteries, which never ran in a straight line. Yet they encountered constructs which were obviously doors – their lines perfectly symmetrical. Some were open, revealing only more corridors that stretched into the distance. Unlike the path they followed, the smaller offshoots were shrouded in darkness. They ignored them on Garrus' orders and kept to the lit corridor.
The notion of time began to have little meaning. Miranda had not checked her chrono at the start of their journey, so she had a limited sense of how long they had been walking. Nowhere near long enough to tire, yet far enough to feel as though the corridor was endless. She lost herself in the strange beauty of their surroundings – finding more than enough to marvel at to keep monotony at bay. Some of the conduits that lined the walls were marked with simple patterns – raised dots or inscribed lines creating a chequerboard effect. Such anomalies created a lingering sense of unease - a prickling at the back of her neck. She had learned to trust her gut instincts. Jack had taught her. Those instincts were telling her, despite not having seen any signs of movement or life, that they were not alone. It should have been obvious. Her presence had been requested at edge of the Galaxy by something or someone. Their whole mission hinged on the fact that they were not alone. But why the lack of directions, the endless corridor?
"Bored yet?"
Miranda startled when she heard Ashley Williams speak. It was barely any kind of movement – her breath caught, jerking her head slightly – but someone as observant as Ashley had to have noticed it. She glanced over her shoulder and was relieved to find no judgement on the other woman's face.
"Sorry, should've seen you were lost in thought," Ashley continued in a quiet voice, drawing alongside her. "There sure is a hell of a lot to take in."
"It's fascinating. The more I see, the less it compares to any other Reaper constructs I've seen. Why does something so alien feel so familiar?" Miranda saw Ashley's brow furrow. "Or is it just me?"
Ashley shook her head. "It's just you, Lawson. Like Garrus said, this whole place is just plain creepy."
"Nothing takes away from that…it's just…"
Miranda instinctively reached out to touch one of the conduits. Through the membrane of her glove, she felt the irregular surface as she trailed her hand over the dots. She drew her hand away only when the conduit curved abruptly, continuing down one of the side corridors. Her train of thought faltered and her sentence went unfinished. Instead her gaze traced the passage of the conduit until it went beyond the beam of her torch, disappearing into the darkness ahead. Something held her in place as the rest of the team pushed forward.
"Lawson? You okay?" Up ahead, Ashley had realised that Miranda was no longer at her side.
Hearing her name snapped her out of her reverie for a moment. However she offered up only a quick wave of her hand to indicate that she was fine before her attention snapped back to the corridor. Although she knew that she should, she was unwilling to re-join the column. Eventually she forced herself to start walking.
Miranda had taken several steps before she realised that she had started walking down the unlit corridor. The darkness ahead did not seem as ominous as before, instead it beckoned. A sudden rush of air swirled around her.
Her heart caught in her throat.
The air carried upon it a sound. One Miranda could not quite make out. A second gust swept it to her ears once again, recognition coming tantalisingly close. She was torn between the knowledge that she should be announcing her discovery and the desire to keep moving forward in case she lost the sound. Her footsteps quickened.
Somewhere behind her – the words sounded much too far away - she heard one of the marines calling after her, asking if she was okay.
"There's something…" she started to offer a reply, but it was little more than a cursory mumble and her voice trailed off.
Another gust of air came, accompanied by the same sound. With a shiver, Miranda realised that it was not merely a sound on the wind. It was a whispering voice. She heard another shout from the team behind her – louder this time - but what was said was completely lost on her. The only voice she could make out clearly was the whisper.
It was saying her name.
Ashley had been expecting Miranda to catch up, however when she looked over her shoulder she saw only the expression of concentration on the marine walking behind her. Miranda was nowhere in sight. She waved the marine forward and retraced her steps back down the corridor.
"Anyone seen Lawson? You, Corporal?" As she stared expectantly at the young woman, Ashley felt guilty that she did not know the names of most of the team surrounding her.
"Yes, ma'am– she was investigating one of those side tunnels, just there."
Ashley nodded her thanks and followed the Corporal's direction. Of all the things she had been expecting to do on the mission, babysitting Miranda Lawson was not one of them. When she reached the entrance, to her irritation, Miranda was at least fifty metres ahead of her and rapidly disappearing further into the darkness. She was little more than a silhouette framed by torchlight.
"For fuck's sake, Lawson!" Ashley yelled down the tunnel – her voice sounding hollow. "I'm not talking to myself here. No wandering off – that includes you."
At first, given the lack of response, Ashley thought Miranda had either not heard her or was ignoring her. Against her own better judgement, she followed Miranda. A few moments later, the other woman turned and beckoned her forward.
"I think I've found something-" Miranda started to reply.
The response was cut off by an abrupt tremor. Ashley dropped to one knee, weapon raised, just as a dark mass descended a few metres in front of her. It slammed down with a loud thud and threw a small cloud of dust in her direction.
"Lawson, can you hear me? Are you still in one piece?"
She remained crouched, tensed, waiting for the particles swirling in her torchlight to settle. Behind her, she could already hear shouts from the rest of the team trying to assess what had happened. The dust cleared enough for her to realise that, where moments ago had been the open mouth of a corridor, there was now a dead end.
"Converge on my location," Ashley said, sounding calmer than she felt. "Some sort of…barrier has fallen. Lawson is on the other side and I can't establish contact."
With her rifle poised in one arm, Ashley reached out towards the barrier. She rapped her knuckles on it and found it to be solid. Urgent footsteps sounded behind her, and she looked over her shoulder to see Vega and several marines approaching.
"Dios!" Vega exclaimed as his gaze roamed the barrier. "Are you sure that wasn't there before?"
"It definitely wasn't there before," Ashley replied in a tight voice. "Lawson was in the tunnel ahead of me. Search for anything looks like a control mechanism. There's got to be something. Failing that, has anyone got cutting equipment?"
"Yes, ma'am!" one of the marines said smartly, stepping forward. "I've got plasma cutting gear."
"Don't just stand there the, see what you can do to get through that."
Ashley joined in Vega's search, but each passing second only confirmed what she already suspected. There was nothing – no obvious controls. The barrier looked as though it had always been there and that Ashley had merely imagined the corridor. The marine with the cutting gear had started on the barrier, illuminating their immediate surrounds with a shower of sparks.
She was running her gloves over the walls surrounding the barrier when there was a sudden crackle of static, then a distant sounding voice came over the comm link. {Williams? Anyone? Do you copy?}
"Lawson?" Ashley pressed her hand to the barrier, as though that would somehow provide more of a tangible link. "Are you alright?"
{I'm perfectly fine-} There was a long pause before Miranda continued in a composed voice, {- save for the fact that a bloody great door has slammed shut behind me!}
"Thank fuck," Ashley replied – too relieved to berate Miranda for getting herself into the situation in the first place. She had no desire to explain to Miranda's lover that they had managed to lose her less than an hour into their mission. "Can you see a control panel of any kind on your side, anything that might activate the door?"
"Or a booby trap - y'know, something you stepped on?" Vega added helpfully. "Are there spikes coming out of the walls?"
Ashley turned and glared daggers at Vega. He shrugged with a sheepish expression on his face. There was a pause in communication, no doubt as Miranda scanned her surrounds.
{Dammit, there's no console, absolutely nothing. You've got more manpower on your side, can you prise it open, cut through it in anyway?}
"We've been trying the moment the door fell. You can't hear or see anything?"
{Nothing, you might as well not even be on the other side of this thing,} Miranda sounded despondent.
"We'll get through," Ashley promised. "Stand back, let me know the moment you see the cutting torch."
{Will do.} There was a brief pause. {And please hurry, it's…kind of lonely over here.}
Although the marine with the cutting gear had gone straight to work, it was slow going. It was not a good sign that he kept pausing, examining the cut and shaking his head.
"This is at least a foot thick, ma'am," he announced after several minutes. "Possibly more."
"I don't care how thick it is, we're getting through."
Ashley was pacing in front of the barrier – absently contemplating whether they could blast the door open - when she heard familiar footsteps. She looked up to see Liara standing at her side. Mercifully, her bondmate was wearing a neutral expression.
"I would ask for details -" Liara began, glancing briefly at the marine who was trying to cut through the door "-but it seems quite obvious. Somehow you managed to lose the one person we actually need."
"I didn't lose-"Ashley began irritably before deciding against getting into a futile agreement. "This is a minor set-back."
"Or…" Liara pursed her lips thoughtfully. "The way forward?"
As a frown tugged at her forehead, Ashley was about to open her mouth to say something when a sudden, violent tremor shook their surrounds.
"Lawson, you good?" Ashley yelled as she clutched the wall for support.
{No! There's another…zzzzz…} Their comms were interrupted by a hissing cacophony of static. {The floor is…}
"You're breaking up," Ashley moved towards the barrier, again, as though that would in some way help her to communicate with Miranda. "Lawson…Miranda…can you repeat that?"
But her question was answered only by more static – although this time it was a thick wall of static, unbroken and absolute. The air in the corridor seemed to shift and Ashley felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. With her hand on the barrier, she immediately felt a shift beneath her touch. The surface jerked unsteadily, before it began to smoothly rise. It took a second for the upwards movement to register, but once it did Ashley dropped to the ground and directed the beam of her torch into the slowly expanding gap. It revealed little other than a dusty darkness.
"Miranda, are you okay?"
Ashley barely waited a moment for a response. She made the split-second decision instead to tuck her body and roll beneath the door – despite the warning shouts from both Liara and Vega behind her. The thought of being crushed to death crossed her mind, but she was through to the other side before she could worry about it. She bounded up into a crouch, expecting to see the grateful face of Miranda Lawson in the light of her torch.
The corridor was completely empty.
Her focus on the whispers was all-consuming until it was shattered by the emphatic thud behind her. Miranda already knew what she would see when she spun around and waited for the dust to settle, but it did not stop the sensation of cold fear that hit her stomach when she saw that she was cut off from the rest of the team. The fear was so absolute that all rational thought processes stopped abruptly as she resorted to her most basic instinct – rushing to the door and pounding on it with her fists.
It lasted only moments and she was grateful that no one else had seen her lapse. She took a step back from the door with only her racing heartbeat reminding her of her panic. Silence descended. Of the whispers which had sounded so loud moments ago, there was nothing.
"Williams, are you there?" Miranda waited expectantly for the woman's angry reply – berating her for the mess she had managed to get herself in.
When none was forthcoming, she scanned the newly fallen barrier with her omni-tool. Frustratingly, she could not get a reading on its density. It was either a few centimetres thick, or several metres. If it was the former, then she would have expected a response to her panicked thumping on the door. With the latter, anyone directly behind her could have been crushed. Fuck, Miranda thought with a wrench in her gut. All for some ridiculous voices which were probably just wind all along. She wanted to believe that it had been the wind, but she knew she had heard voices.
"Williams? Anyone? Do you copy?" She did not try to hide the desperation in her voice.
{Lawson?}
Miranda sighed with relief upon hearing Ashley's calm voice over the comms.
{Are you alright?}
"I'm here, Williams. And I'm perfectly fine-" Miranda paused to look over shoulder. The paltry beam from her suit's torch was swallowed by the tunnel ahead "- save for the fact that a bloody great door has slammed shut behind me." And I panicked like a an FNG on their first op.
{Thank fuck,} Ashley sounded genuinely relieved. There was no trace of anger in her voice. {Can you see a control panel of any kind on your side, anything that might activate the door?}
{Or a booby trap - y'know, something you stepped on?} Vega chimed into the conversation. {Are there spikes coming out of the walls?}
Not fucking helpful, Miranda bit her lip on the curt answer. Instead she scanned her surrounds with her torchlight, all the while acknowledging that was what she should have done in the first place. She ran her gloved hands over the surfaces close to the barrier and ran several scans with her omni tool. She felt nothing and the readings continued to make little sense.
"Dammit, there's no console, absolutely nothing," she replied. "You've got more manpower on your side, can you prise it open, cut through it in anyway?"
{We've been trying the moment the door fell. You can't hear or see anything?}
Not what I wanted to hear. Miranda kept her palm pressed to the barrier, but she felt nothing – no vibrations at all. "Nothing, you might as well not even be on the other side of this thing,"
"We'll get through," was Ashley's resolute reply. "Stand back, let me know the moment you see the cutting torch."
"Will do."Miranda paused, mulling over additional words in her head. She felt slightly pathetic in her fear. "And please hurry, it's…kind of lonely over here."
An overwhelming silence filled the absence of conversation. Miranda spent several more fruitless minutes searching for something she might have overlooked, all the while straining for the sounds of the rest of the team on the other side of the door. There was nothing – neither sound, nor control mechanism. She told herself that it was not giving up when she sank down to the floor, the borrowed armour scraping as she moved.
Miranda sat amid the shadows, alternating between staring at the barrier that kept her from the rest of the team and futilely directing her sole beam of light down the tunnel. Her mind wandered, asking the question of whether she would have to set out alone in the darkness to find an alternate route. That thought filled her dread. She could face many things, but she was not at her best with forced isolation. Nor was she reluctant to admit that her years away from conflict had made her soft. All she could think about was getting the hell off this moon…space station, whatever it was, and getting back to Nea. If any old war colleagues ever came asking for her help, the answer would be a resounding no.
She was verging on self-pity when everything around her shook suddenly and violently. Miranda leapt to her feet, barely hampered by her armour in her haste.
The comm line crackled and she heard Ashley asking in an urgent voice, {Lawson, you good?}
Ashley's question was clear enough, even in the midst of the slight state of panic in which Miranda found herself. She fought for calm, but it was next to impossible when she turned around. Through the dust, her light clearly illuminated a second barrier coming down just as quickly as the first. She barely had time to register what was happening before she was effectively sealed inside a large box. No sooner had it sealed around her, there was a sinister hiss of air followed by another abrupt movement. Then, to her horror, Miranda felt movement. Whether the floor was lifting or the whole box was moving, something was happening – and it was not good.
{No! There's another barrier and I'm trapped!} Miranda replied, hardly caring about the shrill tone of her voice. {The floor is bloody well moving. I'm moving!}
The only response she received was a hissing burst of static. Even that cut off abruptly after a few moments as the momentum accelerated to the point where Miranda felt pinned. She clutched against one of the walls for support, all the while feeling that she was on an elevator ride to hell. Wherever she was going, Miranda knew that she would be some distance from the rest of the team.
Almost as abruptly as it started, the momentum stopped. Miranda was left feeling light-headed. This time she knew that her pounding heartbeat was not excitement, it was fear. She did not know whether to be relieved or not when she saw one of the barriers start to ascend.
Her torchlight shone into the new space, but it met no walls. Nothing other than the floor which stretched away into the distance until the light faltered. Miranda took several hesitant steps forward.
"Williams? Garrus? Anyone?"
Her voice sounded eerily thin and was quickly swallowed by the darkness. Miranda took several further steps, her boot falls sounding hollow and lonely. When she stopped, silence abruptly descended. It was almost absolute, save only for her own short, shallow breaths inside her helmet.
Miranda had a limited acquaintance with fear. From an early age she had learned that fear accomplished little. As she grew older, the only fear she felt was intimately entwined with loved ones – Oriana, Shepard, Jack. It was never for herself, never as a result of the situations she found herself in. As she tried to take another step forward, an uncomfortable churning took hold of her gut. Her boots remained fixed in place, as though held by an unknown force. Even though she knew her response to the situation was irrational, no amount of explanation could shift the fear.
When the next step finally came, it was hesitant. Almost pathetic. As she walked, she forced her thoughts elsewhere. Somewhere other than the oppressive darkness surrounding her. She couldn't explain it at first, but her thoughts went to Jack. Not the Jack whom she had recently lost, but the old Jack. The Jack she loathed. She heard Jack's voice telling her to stop being such a pussy, telling her to get her 'fat ass' moving.
Miranda drew on the anger she knew that Jack would have felt in the same situation. An anger born out of impatience and frustration. This wasn't her fight. She had somewhere far better to be. In the arms of someone who loved her.
She felt a distinct prickling sensation at the back of her neck. Miranda knew that feeling, it meant that she was not alone. Something switched on in her brain, and she remembered that she was armed. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the heavy pistol she carried. She felt little comfort as the servos whirred and it extended in her hand. It was likely that anything lurking in the bowels of the station would not be deterred by a lone pistol. Nevertheless, instincts drove her to carry it at the ready as she moved forward.
Under her breath, she cursed everything that had conspired to place her in such a situation. Her old ties to the Normandy, which ought to have been long severed. Ashley fucking Williams for showing up uninvited on her lover's doorstep. Her own stupidity for going along with the woman so meekly. Why did she not put up more of a fight? She could have taken Ashley without raising a sweat. Granted, the posse of commandos would have trussed her up in a heartbeat, but it would have been satisfying to have laid Ashley out first. And Alice fucking Shepard. Her most of all. The reason that she had felt compelled to come along on this ridiculous endeavour. Shepard, for being the catalyst behind everything.
Shepard…who was standing directly in front of her.
Miranda screamed. It was not a blood-curdling scream like you heard in old horror films, it was an undignified squeal – or perhaps a squawk. Although it was quickly stifled behind clamped lips, the echo of it lingered both in the air and in her gut. When her lips finally parted again, a distinct whimper emerged, followed quickly by panicked breaths. In the first instant, the pistol had fallen. Now she lifted it again, training it directly on the head of the figure standing in front of her. As long as she kept a weapon trained on it, then she wouldn't have to acknowledge that the person-shaped thing standing in front of her looked exactly like Alice Shepard. Instead her mind began to think of practical solutions that could explain what she was seeing. Practical, realistic solutions. Not that the dead had come back to life, or that ghosts could look so corporeal. It took a step and its boot tapped on the floor. Not a ghost then. Everything was so life-like, right down to the way that its lips seemed to tremble.
It was only then that Miranda realised that she was no longer relying only on the light of her torch. More of the pale saucer lights illuminated above her. The thing standing in front of her even had a shadow.
The Shepard-thing took another step, and Miranda's finger tightened on the trigger in response. "Take another step and I'll shoot you right between the eyes." Her voice trembled, just like the thing's lips. "What are you?"
The thing raised both hands, palms up, in supplication. "It's okay, Miranda."
The voice sounded exactly like her voice. Then it took another, more confident, step forward. Miranda's finger jerked. The pistol retorted loudly in the confined space. Sparks flew as the single round struck the wall directly behind the Shepard-thing.
"Fuck!" It scrambled backwards with its eyes wide. It looked over its shoulder and studied the narrow miss before turning back to Miranda. "Notwithstanding the fact that you just shot at me, when the hell did your aim turn to shit? Although, I suppose I should be grateful that my brains aren't splattered everywhere. Seriously, please don't shoot me…it'll be very bad for everyone if you do."
Miranda narrowed her eyes, and kept the pistol trained on the figure in front of her. "Is that a threat?"
"What? No?" The Shepard-thing shook its head vehemently, then it sighed wearily. "Can you just put the pistol away, please? Or at least lower it so we can have a conversation?"
Miranda didn't move a muscle. "Answer my question first. What the hell are you?"
"You never could make it easy for me, could you? Even now."
The figure slowly leaned back against the wall that Miranda had just scorched and folded its arms across its chest in a seemingly relaxed pose. It moved exactly how she had moved. Everything was achingly realistic. Whoever…or whatever this thing was, it perfectly mimicked everything about the woman she had known. Emerald-green eyes twinkled in the dim light. Red hair, falling to its shoulders, looking slightly unkempt as hers always had. The figure was dressed very simply – a long-sleeved, grey t-shirt that was tight over its biceps, a pair of grey cargos and grey boots. It was almost as though someone had taken a set of Alliance casuals and washed all the colour out of them.
"I guess I hoped that you would…you know…just know." It shrugged hopefully.
"Know what?" Miranda demanded irritably.
"That's it's me, Miranda."
She shook her head in stubborn refusal. "Answer the damn question! Otherwise I will shoot you…regardless of whether it's bad for everyone – whatever the fuck that means."
The thing tensed and stood up straight, any pretence of relaxation was dropped. It spoke slowly and deliberately. "I am Alice Shepard."
Something snapped inside her, this time her finger deliberately squeezed the trigger. Her aim was as precise as it had ever been. The round sliced neatly through the grey t-shirt and nicked the bicep beneath. Miranda's target yelped in pain and pressed its hand against the wound.
"Christ, Miranda!" it yelled hoarsely. "That fucking hurts!"
Bright blood started to seep into the t-shirt. When it withdrew its hand, the palm was bloody. Miranda stared in disbelief. Real enough.
"Who the fuck are you?" she demanded in a shrill, desperate voice. "What the fuck are you?"
"I already told you," it replied through gritted teeth. "I'm Alice-"
"Alice Shepard was killed after activating the Crucible!" Miranda interrupted in a harsh voice. "You are something else."
It did not reply, instead busying itself with studying the wound. When it looked back to Miranda, its expression was indignant. "You shot me!"
"A mere graze. If you really were Shepard, you'd be used to being shot," Miranda pointed out.
"Well I didn't just stand around waiting for people to shoot me," it muttered, sounding decidedly grumpy. "Especially not my friends."
In addition to the surly tone of voice, it was scowling in an expression so reminiscent of Shepard that Miranda felt tears sting at her eyes. Of all the things that she had been expecting to find deep within the bowels of a Reaper station, this was not it. Not this cruel reminder of everything she had lost. In addition to her fear and anger, another feeling lingered at the back of her mind. This one was infinitely more dangerous and unwanted – hope.
"Were Shepard and I ever really friends?" Miranda murmured. It was more for her own sake, but she knew her voice would carry across the short distance.
In response, the Shepard-thing stared at her. It looked slightly forlorn, standing there clutching its bicep with a confused expression. Miranda felt the first twinge of guilt, but it did little to dispel the other emotions churning around in her head.
The figure eventually let its hand fall. The bleeding had already stopped. It tilted its chin upwards and drew in a breath.
"You and I were…messy," it replied softly, its voice sightly wistful and just as full of regret.
Alice? The name was on the tip of Miranda's tongue as her heart thudded wildly. Her lips even parted to say it aloud.
Before Miranda could speak, the Shepard-thing suddenly cocked her head to one side and frowned. It was as if she were listening intently to something. It was eerie, especially considering that Miranda could not hear a thing at first. However, in the quiet that surrounded them, there was something. It was faint, merely a murmur. Miranda heard her own breath, quickening slightly, before she finally picked up the first trace of a sound she recognised – albeit not one she had heard for a very long time.
In front of her, the Shepard-thing stretched out her hand and beckoned for Miranda to take it.
"I'm really sorry, Miranda. We're going to have to save this conversation until later," it said with a trace of urgency in its voice. "We're about to have company."
Miranda hesitated for a long moment. Then, with a sharp breath, she reached out and took Shepard's hand.
"Miranda's girlfriend is going to skin me alive," Ashley muttered, pacing back and forth in the narrow corridor.
"That is not really a thing," Liara offered in a quiet voice. "Flaying people alive? It is merely a useful deterrent. As a means of killing, it is extremely messy. Far more efficient to just shoot someone in the head."
Ashley glared at her bondmate. "Li, sweetheart, if you're trying to lighten my mood it's really not working."
Less than a four hours into their mission, they had lost Miranda Lawson. Scans of the space had revealed nothing, no indication that Miranda had even been there. They were also unable to pick up any signs of the missing woman on longer range scans. Not that they could pick up much of anything. Their readings were distorted – one scan indicated movement in their surroundings, whereas others showed the station to be completely lifeless. Ashley did not trust any of the readings, especially given that their gear was struggling to even register the team. Her omni barely picked up Vega, despite the fact he was standing less than five metres away from her.
"What's our next play, Garrus?"
The one bright point in the whole shit-show was that Ashley was exempt from the decision-making. As she directed her question toward the Turian veteran, she was extremely grateful. Garrus' calm exterior revealed exactly why he had been chosen.
"We regroup at the shuttle. Wherever she is, that's where Lawson will try to return. It'll give us some time to study the route scans, work out where she might be," Garrus offered, his voice betraying nothing other than decisiveness. "With more information, we'll send out teams again."
"I do not think that is necessary," Liara said, waiting for both Garrus and Ashley to turn their attention toward her before continuing, "Whomever summoned our help, they requested only Miranda by name. We brought her here, and she has been taken. While I cannot offer any evidence to back my theory, my instincts tell me that she is in no danger. Or at least…she is precisely where she needs to be."
"So we just sit back and let Miranda do all the work?" Ashley asked, unable to keep the scepticism from her voice.
"Not exactly," Liara replied with infuriating calm. "I venture that our path will reveal itself soon enough."
Ashley and Garrus shared a look. Garrus merely shrugged, as if he were unwilling to disagree with Liara.
The corridor was quiet, save for the murmured conversations of the team. Those tasked with being on point remained vigilant, while others used the opportunity to grab a quick bite to eat. There was scattered chatter, most of the marines were trying to keep things light with jokes and banter. None were willing to raise their voices, as though there was something in the dark that they did not want to disturb.
While Ashley was grateful to not wear the mantle of leadership, she disagreed with Garrus' plan. Had she been the one in charge, she would have pushed forward. Rendezvousing at the shuttle was simply wasting time that they could have been searching for Miranda. As it was, she weighed up her options. Disobeying Garrus' order would do little than earn the ire of an old friend – and no doubt her bondmate. She could live with both.
Suddenly, another sound joined the muted conversation. It put a swift end to the talk, and the entire team raised their weapons almost as one. Conversations were replaced by the clink of armour and the whirring of micro-servos as weapons extended into readiness.
Ashley felt a chill go down her spine. She knew the sound all too well, even though she had not heard it for over twenty years.
"Your instincts might be a little off, Li," Ashley whispered. "I think we're all about to be in serious danger."
Somewhere, out in the darkness, they all heard the screaming of Cannibals.