White. I can see only white.
"There. On the monitor. Something is wrong."
A woman's accented voice, unfamiliar to her, saying nonsensical things. Where am I? Shepard can't form coherent thoughts, but she has a faint recollection of floating in space and then nothing. Where the fuck am I?
Another voice, this time a man's. "She's reacting to outside stimuli. Showing an awareness of her surroundings."
She? Are they talking about me? What do they mean? What the hell is going on? Why can't I move? With great effort, Shepard manages to turn her head to the side. She still can't focus, but she can make out the blurred image of a dark haired woman. Ash?
No, not Ash. The voice is not Ashley's as it says, "Dammit Wilson. She's not ready yet. Give her the sedative." Not ready for what? She tries to speak, to ask where she is, but her mouth won't respond to her brain. The blurry woman turns to her. "Shepard - don't try to move." Shepard manages to bring a hand up, but still can't speak. "Just lie still. Try to stay calm."
Calm? How the hell can I stay calm when I don't know where the fuck I am or why I'm here. Another memory flashes in her mind. Floating alone in space. Burning in her lungs. Saying goodbye to Ash. Taking her last breath. Dying?
The man speaks again. "Heart rate still climbing. Brain activity is off the charts. Status pushing into the red zone. It's not working!"
The woman moves away. "Another dose. Now!"
"Heart rate dropping. Stats falling back into normal range." The words begin to sound muffled, as if she has pillows covering her ears. "That was too close. We almost lost her."
The woman's face appears again, this time closer. She speaks to the man. "I told you your estimates were off. Run the numbers again."
Thoughts become difficult once more. What is happening? Where is Ashley? Her vision begins to darken at the edges. No, not again! Please, I don't want to die again! As everything fades to black, she manages to speak one word. "Ash."
OoOoO
A voice. "Commander! Wake up, Commander."
Shepard heard the voice, but couldn't make sense of it. "Shepard, do you hear me? Get out of that bed now! This facility is under attack." Shepard tried opening her eyes, but her body was slow to respond to her brain's instructions. That voice is familiar. Why?
An explosion rocked her against the table she was laying on, startling her eyes open at last. A burst of adrenaline helped her regain control of her muscles. The skin on her face felt too tight. She reached a hand up while moving her jaw back and forth, trying to stretch the muscles out. She could feel wide scars on her cheeks, but no scabs.
The voice again. "Shepard, your scars aren't healed. But I need you to get moving. I repeat, this facility is under attack."
Shepard pulled herself up to a sitting position, groaning as the muscles of her torso protested. She looked down at her body, finding it dressed in an unfamiliar gray and white uniform. She reached up with both hands, running her fingers through her hair, and discovered that it was much longer than she remembered - it skimmed the top of her shoulders. The voice continued to exhort her to get up, telling her to find a pistol in a locker across the room.
Shepard still had no idea what the hell was going on, but she could hear the sounds of battle going on outside of the room, and her military instincts took over.
She grabbed the pistol, and grimaced when she realized it was unloaded. "What the fuck good is this? Do you expect me to throw it at someone?" she yelled at whoever belonged to that voice that was speaking to her.
"We'll work on that. There should be some armor in the next locker over. Quickly!"
The armor bore the familiar N7 stripe down the arm, but nothing about this facility or her uniform seemed remotely connected to the Alliance. She quickly donned the armor, picking up the empty pistol.
The voice continued to give Shepard instructions and directions. Where have I heard that voice? An image of an out-of-focus dark haired woman came to mind. The memory wasn't connected to anything else. Shepard couldn't tell what it meant, but she had no time to consider it further. She battled through waves of mechs, going where the voice told her to go. Shepard was pleased that her skill with a gun was as she remembered, and surprised that her body seemed quicker and stronger than before. Before what?
"Shepard, you have to keep moving. We need to get you to the shuttle."
To the shuttle. An image of the last shuttle containing Joker came to mind. No no no. I didn't survive that. How is any of this possible?
Shepard made her way through the facility, destroying every mech she came across. She ducked into a room to catch her breath, noticing data logs open on a nearby terminal. Glancing over her shoulder to verify that she was temporarily out of danger, she pressed "play".
A dark-haired woman appeared on screen. The accented voice was unmistakably the same one that woke her. "Progress is slow, but subject shows signs of recovery. Major organs are again functional, and there are signs of rudimentary neurological activity." What the fuck? "In an effort to accelerate the process, we've moved from simple organic reconstruction of the subject to bio-synthetic fusion. Initial results show progress." Organic reconstruction? The subject? Bio-synthetic fusion? Shepard's head was spinning. Who is she talking about? Shepard's hand passed over the open scars on her face again. The possible implications were terrifying.
Another log entry, this time a male voice. "The cost of this project is astronomical - over four billion credits so far. But nobody seems to care that we've gone over budget." Four BILLION? The voice continued. "I don't know where the boss gets all his money. . . Maybe it's better not to know. I just wish he'd kick a little more in my direction once in a while." The boss?
Shepard ventured back out into the hallway, destroying more mechs. She burst through a large door, finding a man wearing a uniform similar to the one she woke in. He was glowing with biotics, fighting a series of mechs across the room. He greeted her by name. "Shepard! What are you doing here? I thought you were still a work in progress."
"What the fuck does that mean? Who are you?" Shepard was more confused than ever. Ignoring the hostile fire overhead, she grabbed the front of the man's uniform. "Look, I don't know where I am or how I got here or why I'm not dead. And coherent thought is not my friend right now. So why don't you tell me what the fuck is going on before I lose my patience."
"Right. Sorry. Of course this is all new to you," the man replied.
"You're not answering my questions." Shepard tightened her grip on the man's uniform. "Spit it out, asshole."
"I'm Jacob Taylor. I've been stationed here for -" He was cut off by a few shots that were too close for comfort. He shook free from Shepard's grasp and raised his weapon to take out two mechs. Taylor dropped back down into cover. "Things must be worse than I thought if Miranda has you running around. Let's get you to the shuttle, then I'll fill you in."
"No! Ever since I woke up, I've had someone telling me what to do. But I don't know where the fuck I am or who the hell you all are. So you'll answer my questions now."
"Fine. Not sure you're going to like everything you hear, though."
"Not your call. Start talking."
"You and your ship were attacked and destroyed." Shepard flashed back to those memories of her floating in space alone. "You were killed." Saying goodbye to Ashley. Taking a last breath. Blackness. Ashley! "Dead as dead can be when they brought you here." Shepard looked closely at Taylor's face. He appeared to be telling the truth. But how? "Our scientists spent the last two years putting you back together. You've been comatose or worse the whole time. Welcome back to your life."
Two years? TWO YEARS?
"You expect me to believe that I've been laying on a table for two years? I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around that one."
"No doubt. The Alliance officially declared you KIA. The whole galaxy thinks you're dead."
The whole galaxy - including Ashley and my mother. Oh god.
"What about my crew? Where there any other survivors from the Normandy?"
"Listen, we can spend all day on your questions if you just help me take down these mechs."
Shepard gritted her teeth, fighting her instinct to punch this guy in the face. "Fine." She broke cover and efficiently took out a half dozen mechs on her own. Standing, she looked down at Taylor, who hadn't even had time to bring up his weapon, and said, "Now we can talk. What about my crew?"
"Just about everybody survived. Some of the servicemen from the lower decks didn't get out, a few others were spaced. Pressly was killed by an explosion."
"What about those who made it off? Where are they now?"
"I don't know. It's been two years. That's a long time. Some left the Alliance, went on to other things. They could be anywhere."
Ashley. Shepard didn't know who she was dealing with, and she didn't want to offer up any weakness they could exploit. She wanted to know where Ashley was, but she wasn't going to ask for her specifically. "How can I find them?"
"Maybe you can track them down when we get off the station. If we get off the station."
The next few questions Shepard asked were quick. She learned that the woman's voice belonged to Miranda Lawson, the person in charge of the project - Project Lazarus - to bring Shepard back from the dead. There were no other subjects - only Shepard. She also found out that Taylor had been with the Alliance for five years, and was in charge of security. In his opinion, the attack on the facility was likely an inside job, but he hadn't had time to figure out who initiated it.
Back to the big issue. "You said you spent two years rebuilding me? How bad was it?"
Taylor shrugged. "I'm no doctor, but it was pretty bad. When I first saw you, you were just meat and tubes."
Shepard shuddered, remembering her trajectory towards the planet as she lost consciousness. I must have hit the atmosphere.
"Anywhere else and they would have put you in a box and jettisoned you into space. But Project Lazarus was different. Cutting edge technology."
Shepard's stomach turned. "So what, are you saying I'm a clone? Some sort of cybernetic hybrid? What?"
"I don't know the details. You'll have to ask the scientists. But I'm pretty sure you're not a clone. The objective was to bring you back, exactly as you were."
Shepard's fingers moved back up to the odd scars on her face. "Sure."
"You're still you. You just might have a few extra bits and pieces now. They spent two years and a fuckton of cash to do it."
Shepard mulled that over. She'd have to do a more complete inventory when she got the chance.
"All right. Let's find Lawson and get to the shuttles. I've got some questions for her."
As they made their way to the shuttles, Shepard spotted another terminal. Curious after finding information that she now knew was about her earlier, she accessed the logs. Lawson appeared on screen again. "Physical reconstruction of subject is complete but we still need to evaluate all mental and neurological functions. Our orders were clear: make Commander Shepard who she was before the explosion. The same mind, the same morals, the same personality. If we alter her identity in any way, if she's somehow not the woman she used to be, the Lazarus Project will have failed. I refuse to let this happen." Shepard turned this over in her mind. So probably not a clone. But what? She felt like herself. Her memory seemed intact. Her thoughts seemed to be her own. Noting that Taylor's attention was elsewhere, Shepard grabbed a data stick and downloaded all log data onto it, tucking it into a storage slot on her armor. She'd want to look at it more later.
Before they reached Lawson, Taylor stopped her. He looked pensive. "Listen Shepard. If I tell you who we work for, will you trust me?"
Shepard said nothing, but she did keep her pistol at the ready.
"The Lazarus Project. It's funded and controlled by Cerberus."
Shepard used her new-found quickness to close the space between them, drawing her weapon and holding it against Taylor's ribs. "You fucking liar. You told me you were Alliance."
Taylor tensed. "I didn't lie to you, Commander. I was with the Alliance. Before I joined Cerberus."
"That's a goddamned technicality. Don't think that it makes anything better."
"The Alliance declared you dead. They gave up on you. They wouldn't even go back for your body. Cerberus spent several fortunes to bring you back. I'd be suspicious, too. But right now, we've got to work together. I thought you deserved to know what you were dealing with. I hope that counts for something."
Shepard took a moment to turn everything over in her head. With an almost imperceptible nod, she lowered her pistol and took a step back. "I'm not done with this."
"Fine. Once we're off the station, I'll take you to the Illusive Man. He'll explain everything."
"Illusive Man? You've got to be kidding me. Someone actually calls himself that? Is he in charge?"
"Yeah. Nobody knows who he really is. Illusive Man was a code name the Alliance used for him. I guess he liked it, and it stuck."
"Fuck that. I don't care what Cerberus did. I'm not working for a terrorist organization."
"You can tell it to the boss. But after we've saved our asses."
They continued on to the shuttles once more. Shepard found another laptop, adding additional log data to her data stick. "Test subject has been recovered but the damage is far worse than we initially feared." Meat and tubes. "In addition to the expected burns and internal injuries from the explosions, subject has suffered significant cellular breakdown due to long term exposure to vacuum and sub-zero temperatures. Despite the extent of the physical trauma, Wilson assures me subject is salvageable." Shepard snorted. Salvageable. "The Lazarus Project will proceed as planned."
When they finally found Lawson, Shepard had some questions for her. She was still angry at the Cerberus revelation, and challenged Lawson's assumption that Shepard would hop onto a shuttle and go to yet another Cerberus facility with her. Lawson made it clear that the only alternative was to stay there alone.
"Fine. Say I go with you. What does Cerberus want with me? Why the Lazarus Project?"
"Maybe you should ask the Illusive Man when you meet him. He poured unlimited resources into Lazarus. Obviously he has some kind of plan for you."
"I'm having a hard time taking someone called the Illusive Man seriously, but it would appear you have the advantage. For now. Let's go."
On board the shuttle, Lawson approached Shepard. "Before you meet with the Illusive Man, I need to ask you a few questions, to evaluate your condition. It's been two years. I need to make sure your personality and memories are intact."
Two years. Shepard was still having a hard time accepting that she'd been out for two years. Ashley. How can I explain being gone for two years to her?
"So it's really been two years."
Taylor piped in. "Two years and twelve days. And you were on an operating table for most of it."
Lawson glared at him. "The sooner we start, the sooner we'll be done. Let's start with your personal history."
Shepard's face hardened. "Now?"
"We should have done weeks of testing to confirm whether the project was successful." Shepard rolled her eyes. "But now a few questions on a shuttle ride will have to suffice. Let's start with personal history. Jacob?"
"Right. Records show you were a spacer kid. Raised mostly on one ship or another." He looked expectantly at Shepard, who just returned a blank stare. "Okay. You enlisted, and survived a thresher maw attack that wiped out the rest of your team. Do you remember that?"
"Do you think I wouldn't? I lost fifty marines. It was a fucking disaster. What do you want to hear?"
Lawson stepped in. "Let's try something more recent. Virmire. You left behind a squad member to die in the blast. Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko was killed in action. It was your call. Why did you leave him behind?"
Shepard closed her eyes at the emotions the memory stirred. She never wanted to revisit that decision. Opening them once more, she fixed her eyes on Lawson's. "Fuck you. I don't have to answer these shit questions. We're done here." She turned her head towards the window, ignoring the two Cerberus operatives.
Lawson was not deterred. "I have more questions, Shepard."
Shepard turned back to her. "I have no more answers for you," she said simply, returning her gaze to the window.
Taylor spoke up. "Come on, Miranda. Enough with the quizzes. I can vouch for Shepard's combat skills personally. And you can see the memories are there."
"Perhaps. Let's hope the Illusive Man accepts our little field tests as sufficient evidence."
"Fuck the Illusive Man," Shepard muttered under her breath. Then she turned her thoughts back to Ashley. I wonder where she is now. I have to find her.
