Author's Note: Happy Birthday, Shepard!
Chapter Ninety: The 13th
"Is it bad that I'm not really shocked?"
"They tried to kill you," the clone said behind him.
"Ya, well, everyone's trying to kill me these days," Colt replied, "As long as Anderson and Hackett weren't involved, nothing really changes for me."
"What?" The clone spat. "The Alliance blew your leg off."
"My favorite leg, too."
"Colt's right," Liara interrupted, "This isn't the Alliance. I mean, it's not the major players. We know the Reapers are infiltrating the highest levels of government, so why not the Alliance?"
"What counts is that our main allies are uninvolved," Colt added, "For now, at least."
"The Alliance blew your goddamn leg off and you're just...okay?" The clone said. "And what about me? Fuck them for thinking they can make a person. That they can manufacture some memories and call it a legitimate basis for a personality."
Colt turned around and looked the clone up and down. All this time, he was focused entirely on himself and thought nothing of his clone. It was fucked up what the Alliance did to him, far worse than what they'd done to Colt. He may have lost a leg, but at least his whole life wasn't someone else's.
"They have no excuse for doing that to you. None at all. And I am so sorry. But you're here now. And now you can live your own life." Colt thought for a minute. "Hell, I'd run. To some distant planet in some distant solar system. If you went obscure enough, it'd take the Reapers years to reach you."
The clone looked back with...surprise? What'd he expect Colt to say? That he had to stay with him?
"What? I'm not making you stay with me," Shepard continued, "You're certainly welcome on the Normandy. But the decision on what to do next is yours."
"I'll come with you."
"You don't have to make that decision now."
"I know," the clone replied, "But it's what I want."
"Fine by me." Shepard checked the time on his omni-tool and let out a sigh. "The Normandy will be back for us tomorrow. You can come aboard then."
"You sound disappointed," Liara said.
"I was supposed to get both clones over this little vacay. I know we're talking to Miranda tomorrow, but it doesn't seem like enough," Colt said, "I mean, we don't have the slightest idea where the Illusive Man is keeping the other clone. Not a fucking clue."
"I might be able to help with that," Liara said, "Even before the clones were brought to our attention, I'd been searching for his base. I narrowed the possibilities down to about twenty locations and then you did the public service of killing Kei Leng. EDI and Sam were able to trace some of his communications, which were sent to the Horsehead Nebula. It seems the Cerberus base is being disguised by Anadius, a red supergiant."
"The Horsehead Nebula? You're shitting me."
"I am not."
"He was right under our nose this whole time. Bastard." Colt sighed. "Does anyone else know about this?"
"No one except Sam, EDI, and I."
"Good. Let's keep it that way," he said, "We need to think carefully about who we tell."
"Agreed," she said.
"Okay, well, we can't do anything tonight. We should all get some rest."
The clone nodded and headed off to the other room. Colt turned and surveyed his shitty, bare mattress. An apology was forming on his lips, but Liara spoke first.
"How long have you lived here?"
"Since Elysium," he said, "After I died, my buddy packed my stuff up and sent it to my mom. I don't know what she did with it...But anyways, I came back pretty soon after I was revived. What can I say? I'm a creature of habit."
He walked over to start making some semblance of a bed. After she failed to respond a few minutes later, he turned back around. His mouth went dry and his stomach knotted when he saw what she was looking at.
"And how long have you had these?" She shook a pill bottle but didn't look at him.
He stared at her, desperately trying to form an excuse, an explanation, anything, but his mind went blank.
"Colt?"
"They're for my leg."
She finally looked at him, her jaw set. "Are they?"
He promised her there would no more lies. She could put up with a lot, but she was dead serious about leaving if he lied again. "No. They started out that way and then...I couldn't stop. They just...they help me sleep and they take the edge off. But I don't take them before missions. I would never put anyone in danger like that. You-"
"-How did you get these?"
"I still have a prescription from the Alliance."
"How? The Alliance has strict regulations on pain medicine."
Shepard shrugged. "I asked Hackett for Determinol a while back. Maybe he had something to do with it? I dunno. I never asked."
"Determinol? For Red Sand?"
He couldn't bear to look at her while nodding yes.
"Colt this...this is not good. Garrus told me about some of the things you've said. I'm really worried about you." Liara set the bottle down and reached for his hands. "You need help. Professional help. When we get back to the Normandy, promise me you'll speak with Chakwas."
He swallowed hard before nodding again.
"Look at me," Liara said. He slowly raised his eyes until he met her gaze. "Tell me you'll get help. There's no shame in it. No one will judge you for it. You're under a lot of pressure. None of our friends will think less of you. Not a single person." She squeezed his hands.
"But then they'll know I couldn't handle shit on my own. It'll look weak. I'm supposed to be their fucking leader! If I crack, then why can't they?"
"We are staring down the end of the world," Liara said, "No one expects you to handle anything alone. And asking for help isn't weakness or a lack of leadership. It takes strength to say something. Swear to me that you'll talk to Chakwas."
"I will," he replied, "I promise."
She stared at him, almost as if she was trying to catch a lie. "Good," she said after a moment. Her hands slowly wrapped around his waist and she leaned against his chest. "I'm not losing you again," she mumbled against his shirt. "...Goddess, that sounds so cliche."
"That's because it is," he said, grinning to himself. "Now, come on. Let's get some rest." He stepped out of her embrace and pulled some covers over the bed to form a sad pile. Her flicked off the light and gave off a biotic glow so the asari could get comfortable.
As per tradition, Liara laid against the wall to prevent any unfortunate eyeball-related accidents involving her crest. Colt laid down next to her, facing away from the wall. She draped her arm around his waist as she pressed against his back.
They laid there for awhile, but he could tell by her breathing that she wasn't asleep. It would be a miracle if he slept at all.
"Colt?" She said quietly.
"Hmm?"
"It's the thirteenth tomorrow."
What had it been now? Four years? Five? He always got the years mixed up. Numbers never quite stuck and his two missing years only confused things more. He didn't even know how long ago the Reapers invaded. Three months? Six? He didn't remember. Years on spaceships made the time bleed into one long wait.
It was like he died yesterday, and years earlier. His memories of that day simultaneously loomed large and faded away. People didn't know what to say, so he didn't talk about it. He didn't even know what to feel about it. Was he happy to be alive? Or was he bitterly disappointed? Maybe both.
The only thing he knew for sure was that it was mildly amusing that he'd died on the thirteenth. Of all the days he could've died, and he managed to land on the ominous one. It wasn't quite a cruel joke played by the universe, but it felt like a particularly cutting joke.
Liara's grip tightened, making him realize he hadn't said anything.
"Ya," he sighed, "I know."
They were in a similar position when the Normandy was first attacked. They weren't going to sleep, it was more like an afternoon nap. The Citadel was saved, they were alive, and things were pretty damn good. He remembered the few words they exchanged as they dozed off in a blissful haze of temporarily suspended responsibilities. They only had to think about themselves and each other in that moment. But the events immediately afterward poisoned the shreds of contentment in that moment, and all the moments after. Was she the same as he? Was she always steeling herself against the next catastrophe? Was she always expecting her happiness to shatter into melancholy?
...
"Do you think the clone will be alright by himself?"
"What are you expecting him to do?"
"I don't know," Liara said, "He just sort of seems...off to me. You know?"
"I do," Colt replied, "But I think anybody would be a little out of it if they'd discovered what he has."
"That's probably true."
Shepard checked the directions on his omni-tool before saying, "We're almost there. Just a block or two."
A few minutes of comfortable silence passed between the pair before Liara said, "I don't trust Miranda."
"That's because she tried to sleep with me."
"Well, that doesn't help," Liara admitted.
"But what else do you mean?"
"She can never just tell the truth. It seems like conversations with her just circle and circle any meaning," the asari said, "Nothing is ever simple with her. And I always get the impression that she's telling the bare minimum. She never outright lies, but she's always holding back."
"That's an astute observation. And I think you could be right," he said, "It'll probably take the two of us to get the truth out of her."
"Agreed."
"We're here." Colt pressed her doorbell before shifting his weight backwards and crossing his arms. He half expected Miranda to obviously peak out of the blinds and then pretend no one was home. He certainly did not expect the door to open immediately before being engulfed by a tight hug. If Liara's distant feelings were anything to go by, neither did she.
"Shepard!" Miranda exclaimed after releasing him. She beamed at him and then turned with much less enthusiasm to the asari. "Hello, Liara. Long time, no see."
"Miranda," Liara greeted.
"Please come in. We can't stand out here long," she said. The former Cerberus agent led them into a dark, stuffy apartment. The windows were covered with thick blankets, and she set several locks on the door after they stepped in. Her kitchen counter was littered with weapons and there was almost no furniture. If need be, she could escape at a moment's notice.
"You must think I'm paranoid," Miranda said, turning to the couple.
"It's not paranoia if you're actually being hunted," Liara replied.
Miranda nodded slowly in agreement and walked into her bare kitchen. "I'm afraid I only have water."
"That's fine," Colt said. He grabbed the plastic cup being offered to him and sat at the kitchen counter.
After Miranda gave a cup to Liara and got herself some, she settled across from Colt. "What's going on, Shepard? You two seem rather serious."
"There's no easy way to explain this, so I'll dive right in," he started, "I got a hold of some Cerberus recordings regarding Project Lazarus. Some of them belonged to you."
Miranda nodded but didn't look surprised. "It was really only a matter of time before you heard those. I know you've got quite the intelligence apparatus supporting you." She took a sip of water and avoided Liara's gaze. "Did you know that I wanted to put a control chip in your brain?"
He blinked a few times and took a long sip of water. He was more surprised that she'd admitted it so early and easily than anything else. "No, I didn't know."
"The Illusive Man said no. I pushed for months and months, and he still said no. He told me that he wanted the original Commander Shepard. He said that we didn't bring you back because of your physical prowess or tactical mind. We could've made an AI that did those things for half the price. I thought he wanted you back for your recognizability. People would rally around you the minute we revived you. That's useful when you want to start a war."
She finished her cup of water and rolled the plastic between her fingers. "I think about this a lot, actually, " she continued, "What would've happened had he actually listened to me. If it had been any other project or person, he would've done whatever I suggested. Thank God he didn't take my advice. I was pissed at the time, but I realize now what he was trying to tell me."
"And what was that?" Shepard said.
Miranda smiled. "There are millions of people in the galaxy that we could've taken in and trained, instead of bringing you back. We could've changed you to fit our agenda better. Made you more agreeable and less independent. But he realized, and now so do I, that you were the Savior of the Citadel because of who you are. We may have made you stronger, faster, and biotic, but you were great before all of these things. You were never made to be great. You earned it. I didn't see the difference for a long time."
Colt shifted in his chair, and wondered if he should be embarrassed or flattered. "Why are you telling me this?" He asked.
"Because I'm guessing you found out that we had the choice to make you an AI, and now you're wondering if we did," she said, "Don't look so surprised. I knew you'd find out eventually."
"So?"
"So exactly what I said before. We wanted you, not some AI," she said, "We tried cybernetics first, and when they failed, we turned to the repurposed Dragon's teeth."
"Reaper tech?"
"It was either that or completely abandoning Project Lazarus. We just don't have the technology to revive brain cells. The Reapers do. Bringing someone back from the dead is an imperfect science. We did the best we could," she explained, "And we weren't gonna let you go, Colt. So we made the decision. And before you ask, no, I don't regret it."
He stood up from his chair and backed away from Miranda. "Where's the bathroom?" He asked.
She pointed down the hall and he practically bolted away.
"He's not like us, is he?" She said after a moment.
Liara turned her attention from the fleeing Colt back to Miranda. "I beg your pardon," the asari said.
The human let out a short laugh. "We've changed. Perhaps for the worst. I don't think the same can be said about him."
"Maybe."
"Which part do you disagree with? That he hasn't changed or that we have?"
"I like to think I still have my morals intact," Liara said coldly.
"Let me rephrase then," Miranda said, "We've let what's happened shape our actions on the battlefield, and to some degree, the political arena. I don't think that's happened to him. And I don't think it comes naturally. Which, to me, is the most admirable aspect of his moral code."
"I do have a moral code, actually. I do not act on whatever whim inspires me at the moment," Liara said, "And I don't think you know me well enough to make that judgement."
Miranda's lips pulled into a thin smile. "I watched you. Everything that I could. First, it was all the head-cam footage I could get my hands on. Then it was the footage that someone, usually drunkenly, took of the SR-1's crew. I read most of your academic papers and watched most of your interviews. I know you better than you know me."
Liara highly doubted that. "And why do you know so much about me, Miranda? I'm curious."
"I wanted to understand your relationship. Who, exactly, was the Commander's paramour? Cerberus wanted to know if it could trust you, and after that hope was quickly dashed, how we could use you."
"And how did that particular scheme go for you and Cerberus?" Liara asked.
"Better than you think."
...
He expected to break the bathroom mirror, maybe send a fist through the wall. But there was no anger to back-up these actions. Surprisingly, he only felt lighter. He wasn't quite aware of how starved he was for answers. Did he die and come back, or was he just dead? Miranda answered that question. It was a Reaper induced resuscitation that pulled him from his early grave. And maybe he wasn't entirely human anymore in a physical sense, but that really didn't matter. He felt no particular hatred towards his newly found biotic abilities or increased strength. Sure, he was still trying to figure out how to handle them years later but they were mostly under control. He just wanted himself back and Cerberus had delivered.
Eventually, he'd probably be pissed that Cerberus turned to the Reapers to fix him. But for now, he felt his chest unfurl. The breathe he'd perpetually held was released.
Shepard strode out of the bathroom, feeling much better after deciding he was more enthused than dismayed at Miranda's admission.
Immediately upon entering the kitchen, Colt could feel tension between the two women. He quickly sat down next to Liara, worried that she'd discovered something else while he was gone. When neither spoke, he began, "Sooo, Miranda. I really appreciate your honesty. I think I feel better about it now."
"Of course, Shepard. It was the least I could do after advocating for a control chip. Me, of all people, advocating for something like that...I wanted freedom from my father's control, for myself and my sister. I fought my whole life for it. But when it came to you, I never had a second thought. It's disgusting and hypocritical. And I'm sorry."
"Listen," he started, "I lost two years of my life, but thanks to you, I got the rest of my life back. I owe you a debt that I can never repay."
The former Cerberus operative nodded slowly at his words, seemingly mulling them over and checking for bullshit.
"I bet the Illusive Man wished he'd listened to you right about now," he said, smiling.
Miranda let out a light laugh and settled into her chair a little more comfortably. "After you killed Kai Leng so effortlessly, I think you're right. Behind you, Kai Leng was his favorite."
Colt smirked at the notion. "Can I get some more water, please?" He held out his filmy plastic cup.
Miranda stared at the cup, sat up straighter, and took it from his hands. She got out of her chair and turned to fill his cup with unusual rigidity. She handed the cup back, saying nothing. She didn't blink the whole time.
Liara and Colt exchanged side glances before turning their attention back to Miranda. She stared at him for a few extra moments with strangely dead eyes. She finally blinked and her personality filled her irises once more.
"I'm sorry about today," Miranda said, "I debated back and forth about mentioning the date. I figured it was better to say something than ignore it. I know I can't understand what it was like to be on the SR-1, but I'm sorry it ever happened."
"That-that's okay." He exchanged another look with Liara. The other human seemed blissfully unaware of her strange behavior.
"I also have a request. I need access to some Alliance records for something I'm working on. I believe you can grant me access with your Spectre credentials. I'm sorry but I can't go into anymore detail."
"What's it for?" He asked, ignoring her explanation.
When her eyes glossed over, shivers ran down his spine. She gave him the same unblinking, slack-jawed look from before. "I am looking for my father," she answered monotonously, "I believe he is involved with a fake refugee processing center called Sanctuary. I believe Cerberus is actually using the site to conduct experiments aimed at better understanding the Reapers."
"What kind of experiments?" He asked.
"It is mostly gene splicing, and indoctrination prevention."
He looked over at Liara, hoping she could provide answers, but she was as horrified and surprised as he.
"Fuck! We gotta let Hackett and Anderson know about this as soon as possible," he said before turning back to Miranda. "Thank you for telling us. I'll give you access immediately. We need as many people on this as possible."
The former Cerberus agent blinked a few times before nodding half heartedly. Her eyebrows furrowed and she struggled to maintain eye contact.
"Thanks for everything, Miranda, but we gotta go," Colt said, heading for the door. "I'll let you know when that access has been approved." He left without waiting for her reply.