"What the Future Holds" from Mass Effect 2: Atmospheric

XXVI. Welcome Aboard

(Ashley)

Mind running on overdrive, I made it to the new Normandy with Shepard in one piece.

This brightness of the SR-2 was such a contrast to the night outside, to the darkness of this moment.

I couldn't know how or why…but on the way here, I felt a huge shift. Not from me. Not anywhere inside of me. I felt okay. It was Shepard. After what had happened at the party, she'd withdrawn into herself. Going into some kind of protective space where she needed to watch, observe, and think. I couldn't feel her emotions, but I wasn't too worried. Shepard hadn't let go of my hand the entire way back to the ship. She still cared, as she should have. So I felt like it was only a matter of time before we worked things out. We just had to talk things over like she'd asked for us to do. Then we'd be good again.

The Normandy welcomed me like home, anyway. Welcoming me aboard. The low, gentle hum of the ship's equipment running smoothly, so calming and reassuring. And the complete silence from the rest of the crew in their Cerberus uniforms: working at their stations, doing their absolute best to not look my way, or over at Shepard nearby. After what she'd done to the rest of the crew, it only made sense for them to fear her.

I really loved that, too.

As soon as I found Joker at the helm, I smiled. I smiled because it felt right. I smiled because I had missed him after only exchanging emails back and forth for two years.

It took him a few extra seconds to smile back at me.

Joker stood up from his seat. "Hey, Ash!" he said, beaming now. "It's been a while, huh? Seeing you and the commander here is kinda surreal. I'm not complaining, though! Reunited at last!"

"For sure," I agreed, giving Joker a hug. "I'm glad to be back!"

He stiffened against me, kind of—and then made himself say, "Hey, don't think this means I forgot!"

"Forgot?" I asked, pulling away. "What do you mean?"

Grinning hard, Joker's jokey tone sounded kind of fake, "You made N7 and didn't invite anyone to your graduation! Not even me! C'mon, Ash, you gotta know that hurts. We were all rooting for you to make it through. Only Shepard was there! I heard the news about it, you know. We all did!"

Was he that pissed at me for not inviting him?

"Oh. Sorry, Joker… I was feeling kind of down about things until Shepard showed up. Didn't want you guys to see me like that, you know?"

"Ah, yeah," accepted Joker, sympathetic. Sounding sympathetic enough. "Guess that make sense. No hard feelings, then." Brightening again, harder, like he was…overcompensating, Joker told me: "By the way, I saw the vids about you two! At the Super Bowl, and that awesome party. It's a huge freaking deal! Everyone on the ship's talking about it. Hell, even EDI noticed!"

EDI: the AI that Shepard had warned me about on the way here.

It—or she, whatever—popped up next to Joker's seat as a blue form, replying in those simulated inflections of a woman's soothing voice, "It was difficult not to notice, Mr. Moreau. I have tracked several spikes in extranet searches related to the commander's relationship with Lieutenant Williams. The galaxy as a whole appears to be interested in seeing them together."

Joker scoffed, "Yeah, no shit, EDI! Good to see you noticing, I guess." He rolled his eyes. "Seriously, this whole Captain Obvious shtick is gonna get old real soon. Can't believe I have to fly the ship with this thing. Got these great leather seats, less red tape bullshit, and we've got Shepard back—and then the lame ass AI has to ruin everything!" Then he noticed the concern in my face. "Oh, don't mind me. EDI's helpful and all. Hell, its cyberwarfare suites puts pretty much everything else out there to shame. I just hate the feeling like I'm on training wheels. After everything…I'm sick of having to hold back."

"No, I get it," I told him. "You're used to flying the ship on your own. It'll take some getting used to."

"Speaking of that—I'm guessing you weren't too happy about the whole Cerberus thing, huh?"

I was about to ask what Joker meant.

But then, it was obvious: the way Shepard kind of stood off to the side, looking like she had something on her mind. The way she had let go of my hand without me noticing. The way she was here without being here. Present without being present. Off somewhere else in her head, trying to think on her own.

I could let Joker think this was about Cerberus, since that was…convenient.

"Err, yeah," I lied. "Shepard and I…still need to talk. You know. We're getting there."

Joker seemed to stop himself from narrowing his eyes. Twitching, twice. Did he…not believe me?

"Aw, well, you might run into another problem," warned Joker, giving me a real, devious smirk this time. "I don't know if you heard, but…word on the street is, there's someone else who can't get enough of the commander. If you know what I mean. And she's on the ship. Even better, she's XO!"

Figuring I was just seeing things before, I smirked back at him. I already knew exactly what he meant.

Taking her own turn to scoff, Shepard retreated farther down the bridge. Giving us our space to talk.

Joker sniggered. "Don't even worry about her," he insisted. "Shepard knows what I mean."

Intrigued, I asked, "Okay, then what do you mean?"

Amused by my amusement, he clarified: "Right, so, I don't know how much Shepard told you about what's going on so far. But Ash, I'm telling you—our new executive officer, Miranda? She is smoking hot! Like, the sexy-badass-dominatrix-hot where you just want her to step on you with her boots! Not only that, but she's got her eye on the commander, too! I'm trying not to go overboard with my, uh, descriptions, since Shepard threw half the crew out for running their stupid mouths about Miranda—in all the worst ways… Let's just say I'd understand if you, uh, feel just a little threatened by her."

"Oh, I know," I told him, coy.

"Wait…how much do you know?"

I laughed softly. "Miranda apparently has a staring problem. I mean, who wouldn't? This is Shepard we're talking about. I already prepared myself for this. Thanks for the heads-up, but I've got it covered."

Mind running wild, Joker had to ask, "Hang on… This isn't gonna turn into a threesome situation. Is it?"

I just gave him a look, smirking even more.

"No way!" he said, almost jumping in place. "Oh, fuck… Ash, this is crazy! You know I'm not gonna be able to focus on anything from now on… Seriously, Shepard taking both of you? At the same time!?"

"Hey, I didn't say anything," I played. "You're the one making the crazy assumptions here."

Joker snorted. "Uh-huh," he dismissed, knowing better. "Jeez…this is getting to me way too much. We gotta talk about something else—before I get thrown out the airlock next." Trying to clear his thoughts, he realized: "By the way, I just noticed. When Shepard was over here, the two of you didn't give off that ridiculous heat. You know, from before? I'm pretty sure you didn't."

Huh, so I was right about that. If Joker noticed it, too, then it wasn't just me.

"I guess not," I shared. "I'm betting Miranda fixed it when she upgraded Shepard's implants."

"Guess so," agreed Joker. "Ah, I'm gonna miss that weird thing. It was hilarious. It's like the two of you were gonna burn down the ship any second. I was kinda looking forward to it again. Oh well!" Laughing one last time in remembrance, Joker told me, "Anyway, don't let me keep you! Miranda's waiting patiently over in the CIC and all. No telling how long that'll last. Again, I'm trying not to say too much. There's no way I'm shooting myself in the foot like that. So you can use your imagination."

"Yeah, I'd better get over there. Take it easy, Joker. We'll catch up some more soon, okay?"

"You, too, Ash. Just let me know when you wanna meet up. We'll talk for sure. And keep me posted!"

I turned to leave down the bridge, laughing over how freaking predictable he was.

Joker laughed, too, while he sat back down in his chair, getting back to his duties…

Then again, maybe not.

I could've sworn I felt Joker's eyes on the back of my head as I went…

But it was probably nothing.

Nothing at all. Because it had to be.

Returning to Shepard's side, we went to the CIC together. Whatever happened back at the party, I was glad to be here with her. I loved this feeling of just being with Shepard again. Existing next to her again; having her exist next to me again. Especially here on the ship. As different as everything looked and felt, I still found a way to feel at home in this new-familiar place. Feeling at home with Shepard here by my side. Feeling everything with her, so happy that we were together again. Moving forward again, as one.

I couldn't help smiling when I saw Miranda again, finally.

Standing near the Normandy hologram in the center area linked to the galaxy map, she waited for us.

I hadn't seen her in-person in a while. Not since her birthday this past September. So lovely in her uniform, midnight blue and black wrapping around her in that tight leather—and those heels of hers. Lovelier still, her eyes lightened just enough as she looked at me, as Shepard and I neared her.

Miranda said to me, "Welcome aboard the new Normandy, Lieutenant."

I smiled more. "Thanks, Miranda."

With the three of us here now, I expected Miranda to give me the rundown about everything. Or for Shepard to lead the conversation instead. Whatever was supposed to happen, time seemed to stop in the contemplation of this moment. Stopping as Miranda observed us, observing Shepard and me here together, as if waiting for something. Looking between the two of us: Shepard standing beside me in a dulled, scowling silence; and me here with her with this endless smile on my face. Waiting for something to happen. Like something was missing. She narrowed her eyes in question, wondering…

When that something didn't happen, Miranda changed.

Noticing, realizing, and taking in the gravity of whatever this thing was: Miranda's expression changed.

Changing seasons from ice calm to heated terror, her eyes grew wide in a trembling understanding.

That steel blue melted in her irises. From her neck-down, she started shaking a little. Breathing in and out through her nose, sharper and more sudden, echoing with that shaking. She managed to keep the worst of this in. Reigning it, restricting it. Keeping her sight away from us, hiding in her tight fright.

Shepard noticed, asking in a neutral sort of impatience, "Miranda, what's wrong with you?"

Detected, Miranda snapped back.

She switched back.

Back to her professional mode. Her default. Her mask, her persona.

"Nothing," she tried, smoothing through the transition. Miranda swallowed. "Nothing, Commander."

Shepard hummed in a detached suspicion. Unconvinced.

She either didn't care enough to push the issue, or she thought it was pointless either way.

Miranda wouldn't just open up:

Being around Shepard like this, I couldn't blame Miranda for how nervous she was. Especially from seeing me here, with Miranda obviously seeing how tight Shepard and I were together, so in love. I actually smiled more—if that was possible—just from how cute and unexpected this was. I should've seen this coming, though. Miranda was totally jealous. And she probably couldn't handle Shepard finally looking at her, being on this ship with her. This was a really nice surprise, anyway.

Taking the reins, Shepard led the discussion.

First, her major announcement: "Miranda, as you know, Ashley is my second-in-command—and I'm naming her as the ship's marine officer. Her role applies to missions, to when we're not on the ship. If I'm incapacitated or otherwise unavailable, then Ashley will act as the new team leader. If for some reason she can't do it, then you will as my third-in-command. In general, out on the field, I will look to you and Ashley as our fire team leaders. I expect you to conduct yourself with that distinction."

"Of course, Commander," confirmed Miranda, her voice still a little uneven. "It's an honor. Thank you."

Shepard continued, "But I made the stipulation to you earlier. Let me clarify this more now that Ashley's here. As my executive officer, for anything involving the Normandy, you are my second-in-command. Aboard the ship, Ashley as the marine officer is still subordinate to you. When I leave the ship, then you have the deck. When I'm back, then you're relieved, as I explained before. If I'm incapacitated or otherwise unavailable, then you will act as the captain in my stead. Full permissions. Understood?"

What the fuck?

I blurted out, "Wait a minute. Seriously?!"

Stern. Sharp. Scowling. Shepard stared down at me, asking, "Is this going to be a problem, Lieutenant?"

Snapping back to attention, I told her, "N-No, Sir! No, Commander. There's no problem at all. Sorry."

Giving a more annoyed hum of suspicion this time, Shepard let it go.

Miranda let out the faintest of breaths, shaking again.

"Miranda," repeated Shepard. "I need your acknowledgment. Will you accept this responsibility?"

"Yes, Commander," she said. And…she gave Shepard a salute? "Thank you again. I won't let you down."

Shepard nodded to her, seeming satisfied enough. But, why?

Yeah, if I was going to be the marine officer in charge of the ship's security detail, then I was supposed to be subordinate to the executive officer… I just didn't get why Shepard chose to make this distinction. To separate our duties like this. I'd been the de-facto captain before: after Ilos, during the Battle at the Citadel. I thought I'd proven myself already. Hell, Shepard had left her entire estate to me in her will! So why did she outsource part of my responsibilities to someone she didn't even know?

And why was Miranda acting like a complete submissive with Shepard like this? Full-on suck-up.

I'd known Miranda for two whole years.

Now that Shepard was here, I didn't recognize this person in front of me. This version of Miranda.

What the hell was going on…?

Miranda forwarded some files to my omni-tool. "In case you're interested, Lieutenant—here's a copy of all the dossiers for our potential recruits. Perhaps you'd like to look them over. They should help you learn what to expect from their combat capabilities. And their personalities—to some extent."

"Okay, thanks," I replied, trying not to sound pissed off.

Needing to buy myself some time, I looked over the dossiers. One stood out to me right away—the powerful biotic vanguard, Jack. Subject Zero. Jack's profile jumped out at me, too:

'Imprisoned aboard the prison ship Purgatory for an ungainly amount of crimes, both federal and galactic-wide. Arson, piracy, murder, theft/larceny, hate crimes, terrorism—all with the aid of Subject Zero's uncontrollable biotic power as a vanguard. Warden Kuril, who is in charge of Purgatory, warns us that Jack is the meanest, most violent criminal he has ever encountered. This is likely due to Jack's lifetime of hardship and trauma: tortured and conditioned to unlock biotic powers from a young age. Subject Zero has unlocked consciousness itself through such trauma and lunacy, changing the Purgatory ship—as well as its inmates—in ways that defy logic and reason. Warden Kuril has asked that we refrain from purchasing Jack for the time being, as he would like to continue studying these effects.'

'May be wise to consider the warden's request. Despite Jack's high value as a powerful biotic, the costs could outweigh the benefits. It is very likely that Commander Shepard will disapprove of Jack's vulgar personality, quickness to murderous violence, and stark aversion to authority. Subject Zero's previous involvement in a white supremacist cult—and lingering 'skinhead' tattoos—will no doubt be the harshest repellants to the commander, who is herself biracial. In her youth, Commander Shepard fought off attackers from the same cult out on Earth's streets with her allies. And so, should Jack fall afoul of the commander's strong Machiavellian sense of justice, then Subject Zero would not survive. The pair might not establish an amenable working relationship. Possible to get along if the commander takes Jack under her wing as a protective parental figure, encouraging self-reflection and personal growth through patience and understanding. Commander Shepard will need to decide the best course of action.'

…

This was…really fucked up. Why would Cerberus pick out someone like Jack to join our team? Especially when they knew the risks involved.

Besides, I didn't want Shepard taking anyone else under her wing. I wanted her attention. I wanted her to myself! After all the bullshit I went through with Liara before, I wasn't about to risk losing Shepard in any way. Not sexually, not emotionally. Not mentally, either, because I was the one sitting on Shepard's throne! So I wasn't about to let anyone get in my way. No one. Ever. Especially not some pathetic ball of hatred who needed my girlfriend to be a fucking father-figure to them. Because if Jack—or anyone else—ever became more important than me, again, then there was no telling how I'd react.

I couldn't go back to living like that. Paranoid. Constantly looking over my shoulder. Fearing for my life.

Not again.

Never again.

Never. Never. Never.

Fucking never, ever again…

Miranda and Shepard both stayed quiet, letting me glance through more of these dossiers. Scrolling through, too curious for my own good, I found Shepard's profile. She actually had one… I needed to read this. Obsessed, completely devoted—I needed to know more about her. Absolutely everything:

'Exemplary in capability and mental fortitude, Commander Sol Shepard is unique in her strengths and her weaknesses. An infiltrator with talents in intensity and concentration, she has honed her instincts to near-perfection. Armed with a sniper rifle, she will find any target and penetrate their defenses, whether through raw power or sheer precision. With her tactical cloak for invisibility, Commander Shepard is an apex predator, both on and off the battlefield. Highly-intelligent and methodical, her observant nature makes her the ideal strategist. Commander Shepard has the ability to adapt and thrive in nearly any situation involving stealth and subterfuge. Survival at all costs: hawk-eyed and perceptive beyond normal means, her sharp instincts can guide her through seemingly impossible challenges. Any direct or indirect attempts to make her the prey will only end in failure. She is far too dangerous to be manipulated.'

'Unreadable and unyielding, Commander Shepard has learned to shield her most heartfelt longings and ideals behind her professional stoicism. She hides from a galaxy that often does not value her truest empathies and emotionality. Idealistic wishes for galactic peace and cooperation, naïve trust in the inherent goodness of others, and a powerful instinct to protect those closest to her—Commander Shepard has had to reconcile her ethics with the harsh reality of her upbringing. Abandoned in her youth, and having dealt with the loss of many friends and allies, she has often felt betrayed by her emotional attachments. As a leader, and as a highly-sensitive, self-sacrificing lover, she requires the utmost stability from her attachments: loyalty, fairness, honesty, respect, and a strong sense of shared interpersonal values. Volatile behaviors or perceived abandonment will disrupt her attachments, forcing Commander Shepard to relive her previous betrayals and losses. While in this state, she will either seek peace at the risk of further pain, or she will retreat into survival mode: stealth, analysis, and then decisive action.'

'Pragmatic and principled to an extreme, Commander Shepard will not tolerate intolerance. She equates moral turpitudes with existential failures. Bigotry, prejudices, and abuses of power are unacceptable reminders of the world that once looked down on her for her station in life. In her eyes, any individuals who behave in this way—toward herself or toward others—are unworthy of consideration. Injustices are intolerable offenses, and ones that she will never forgive. In such situations, the ends justify the means. Machiavellian in the pursuit of justice and fairness for all, Commander Shepard will act on her principles in order to protect the weak and the vulnerable, as well as those she holds most dear. When she knows that someone does not truly share her values—or if they have hurt her beyond repair—she will show no mercy. Clemency is not an option. Commander Shepard's principles will shape her subjectivity; her mind and her heart will evolve, surrendering to her ultimate judgment. She will then act accordingly. Justified.'

Seeing that I had started shaking, Miranda worried, "Lieutenant? Is there something wrong? You're looking rather pale."

"N-No, I'm okay," I insisted, putting on a front. "I'm okay. I'm fine. I was just…thinking."

Shepard droned, patronizing, "Then are you done thinking, Ashley? We're not finished here yet."

"Yeah," I replied, lowering my head. Hating myself. "I-I mean—yes, Sir! Sorry, Sir… Won't happen again."

And again, Shepard just gave one of those unimpressed, disapproving hums, practically killing me.

Sounding mostly like herself again, Miranda continued on, "As you know, Lieutenant, this is a suicide mission. We won't be able to defeat the Collectors unless our team is as strong as it can be. And I don't only mean in combat. Team-building is the name of the game. Aside from recruiting new team members, helping them with their personal matters, or upgrading the Normandy as needed, you and the commander will want to prioritize your relationships with the squad. I would encourage you both to make sincere efforts in getting to know everyone better—and securing their utmost loyalties—instead of rushing off through the Omega 4 Relay to the Collector homeworld. If anyone is unfocused or disloyal, it could prove disastrous. So our mission's success ultimately hinges on the bonds that everyone shares. And a powerful trust in our captain and commander, as well as the two of us as her team leaders."

"Sure, that's fine with me," I answered, calming down now. "Make friends, hang out together. Get to know each other better, help them out with whatever they need. I can do that. I'll make it a priority."

Miranda nodded to me, before looking to Shepard. "Commander, I know you're not a particularly social person. But, for the sake of the mission, I'd like you to perhaps reconsider things. The Illusive Man handpicked our potential squadmates. Not only for their diverse specialties, but because they each have something unique to offer you on an interpersonal level. With that said, there's no pressure to recruit absolutely everyone he picked out. Only the ones who you feel are necessary. The decision is yours."

"Noted," soured Shepard, not looking forward to the inevitable social hour on her ship. "Is that all?"

"Yes, Commander. That's all I have for now."

Instead of dismissing us, Shepard left without a word. She headed to the elevator behind the galaxy map. Probably heading up to her private quarters. To think, to cool off. And then she and I would talk.

I sighed. "Yeah…she's in a mood."

Miranda smiled a bit. "Yes, I can see that," she humored. "I'm sure she'll be fine. Shepard might just need to recharge after a long day of being out in public—at the Super Bowl and that party, no less. I wouldn't worry about it." That was true. After she cooled off, Shepard would be in a better place for our talk later. "Since she's gone off, I can show you around the ship if you'd like. The layout isn't entirely the same as the SR-1. There's a full armory, a lab, and a comm room with a QEC here on the command deck. The crew deck is roughly the same as you remember it, with a few other rooms added. The engineering deck is separate from the cargo hold this time, also with some other locations, along with a quiet subdeck. I think you'll find the new drive core to your liking as well. So, are you up for the tour?"

"Okay, sure," I accepted, glad that she was so nice about this. "I sent my stuff over here earlier. Where's my room? In the crew's quarters again?"

"Ashley, you're a senior officer aboard the ship. Those regular old bunks are unbecoming of your new status. We've arranged for you to have your own private room down on the engineering deck, in what used to be the starboard cargo area. We figured you would want to be down there in order to speak with Tali'Zorah as often as possible. She'll be joining us later on once she's ready."

"Sounds good! Let's start that tour. I wanna see what's new, what's the same. Everything."

Miranda smiled more. "Of course. Follow me, then."

Touring the new Normandy with Miranda kept a smile on my face. It was fun to see all the changes, while catching up with Miranda from the last time we'd seen each other. And I did notice how quiet the rest of the crew were. They must've still been shaken up after Shepard had tossed out those assholes the other day. None of them even looked at Miranda or me whenever they would pass by. Like if they so much as breathed near either of us, Shepard would come out of nowhere and terrorize them to death. I guessed I couldn't blame them for being so scared of her. That was probably what she wanted, anyway.

Once we made it to the starboard cargo where my room was, I asked Miranda if we could continue our talk in a little bit, after I showered and got changed. Miranda said that was fine—she let me know that she would be in her office up on deck three whenever I was ready. After she was gone, I went ahead and took in the new surroundings.

Plenty of space, with wide windows showcasing the stars out beyond, a long table with my terminal there, my holo-closet nearby, a nice bed along the far wall, and an adjacent bathroom. Some of the other windows showed the cargo hold down below, with the new shuttle to replace that stupid Mako. The bouquet of white everlasting roses that Shepard had given me—they were already in a vase on the table. That crisp, heady scent had already filled the room in such a pleasant way. I loved it so much.

And it was still so quiet. Nothing but the hum of the ship's equipment found me here. Tranquil, chill.

I shuttered the windows overlooking the cargo hold, since I could kind of see the elevator outside my door. I didn't want anyone looking in here. Especially while I was in the shower.

After I finished cleaning off, I found my holo-closet. A new dilemma:

I was supposed to wear a Cerberus uniform on the ship. As a senior officer, I really should have.

But I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

For now, at least, I put on my Alliance fatigues, updated to the latest style: solid blues, shades of lighter blue camouflage, and sturdier boots. Putting these on, I thought about emailing Kaidan, to see what he was up to out on Horizon. I wondered if he'd caught the Super Bowl at all. Probably not if he was too busy. And I couldn't see him going for this whole Cerberus thing, either. I wasn't sure how to broach that conversation once it inevitably came up. Hell, it might've ruined our friendship once he found out…

I was surprised that Tali had already promised she would join up, too. She wasn't a fan of Cerberus, either, for obvious reasons. But being on Shepard's team again was more important than the rest. I was a little on-edge about seeing her again—having to go back to lying to her face, every single day. Still, I already knew there was no way she would take my side if I told her the truth. She was way too close to Liara, even after all this time. It was the same for everyone else: Joker, Wrex, and Garrus…except for Kaidan, who had always been kind of distant with Liara back then.

There was no turning back now. I'd already made my choices. It was time to live with them.

Checking my computer, I looked over the ship's facilities. I figured I'd get back to work in the armory soon enough. I had to get used to that space being on the command deck now, and not in the cargo bay anymore. The cargo hold had the new shuttle…and something else. Looked like some kind of VR room. Like a video game. For guided training exercises, simulating real-life. Fitness, stealth, meditation—things that Shepard would probably like. And:

Insomnia – After Hours: 10pm-7am.

Insomnia?

Was this linked to Shepard's insomnia? How she didn't need to sleep anymore unless she wanted to?

Probably. Sounded interesting. I wondered what it was for.

As I left my room and headed to the elevator, I pulled up my omni-tool. Checking for more information about this Insomnia thing. Whatever this was, I didn't have access to use it. I wondered if it was just because of the current time, only accessible between the hours of 10pm and 7am. That wasn't it.

I was actively blocked by the ship's systems. I couldn't read anything about it. Couldn't preview it at all.

That just made me even more curious.

Reaching the crew deck, I decided to shelve this Insomnia thing for now. Maybe I would try asking Miranda about it later. Or Shepard, after she'd used it. This was a video game thing, after all. I knew she would at least want to try it out.

Before visiting Miranda in her office, I headed to the med bay. I hadn't seen Dr. Chakwas since that whole incident with the Alliance, and transferring Shepard's remains over. After my betrayal.

When I got there, I found Dr. Chakwas at her desk, wearing her Cerberus medical uniform. Typing away at her terminal in this bright, bright room. Wide windows next to her open to the empty mess hall, Dr. Chakwas just kept working. Working, and ignoring me. Almost like she thought I would go away if she didn't say anything; if she kept pretending to work. Because, through the window nearest to her, I could've sworn I saw her scowl reflected there in the glass. I'd always known her to have a smile on her face: warm, welcoming. So this was—different, to say the least. Was she in a bad mood, too? Why'd she agree to work for Cerberus if she didn't want to be here?

Or…maybe I was seeing things.

I addressed her, "Dr. Chakwas?"

"Oh!" she said, seemingly surprised; turning around in her seat. "Ashley, there you are. Forgive me—I didn't hear you come in." But then her eyes darkened, narrowed as she looked at my clothes. The camouflage blues of my Alliance fatigues. And then Dr. Chakwas' tone got so frosty: "I see you're settling in nicely. It must have been jarring, having the commander return so suddenly like that. And learning that she's working with Cerberus now. It's good that you were able to set aside your reservations for Shepard, for the mission. You and I are both loyal to the commander first and foremost. Aren't we?"

"Err, yeah," I replied. "Yeah, we are… You know how much I love her. Couldn't let anything get in the way of that. Not even Cerberus. So now I'm here."

Dr. Chakwas hummed…in a bitchy sort of way. "Yes, that's true," she appeared to agree. "I'll admit: I wasn't too pleased when Cerberus initially approached me for the job. I was really of the mind to turn it down, not wanting to associate myself with such an organization. However, I couldn't resist the opportunity to serve with Commander Shepard again. The Illusive Man knew this. He figured I only needed a little more persuading. And he was right."

Curious, I wondered, "Then how'd he persuade you?"

"I'm afraid that's a story for another time," insisted Dr. Chakwas. "For now, let's just say that he and Miss Lawson were particularly convincing. I was able to take a leave of absence from the Alliance without any penalties whatsoever. Afterward, I was honored to help Miss Lawson and her other staff with the Lazarus Project. I must say, it was one of the most meaningful undertakings of my long medical career. And now we have Shepard back with us. I couldn't be prouder of what we accomplished."

Miranda never mentioned anything about Dr. Chakwas being on her staff…

Dr. Chakwas noticed—"In case you're wondering why I never told you: I simply didn't want anyone else to know that I was involved. It could have created a conflict of interest. I'm sure you understand."

I would've understood just fine if she stopped using this chilly ass tone with me. Condescending.

"Sure, I get it," I said instead, not wanting to argue with her of all people. "No hard feelings."

"Mmm. Good."

Seriously, what was her freaking problem?

Changing the subject, I asked her, "So, does that mean you know more about Shepard's whole indoctrination immunity now? Were you able to take a better look at things during the project?"

"Yes, actually," confirmed Dr. Chakwas. "That was at the top of my to-do list right when I arrived. I wasn't able to learn absolutely everything about the process. But I did discover enough to feel comfortable with my sixth sense, so to speak. I wasn't able to share all of my findings with Miss Lawson, as she was quite preoccupied with other matters. I'll need to make a note to tell her sometime soon."

I had to know, "Then are you able to sense anything now? Is Shepard still 'ready', like you said before?"

"Indeed. As we speak, the commander is more than 'ready'. Her protections have vastly improved over these past two years. They're now perfect. She'll be prepared for anything when the time comes."

I smiled at that.

Despite what happened during the party, Shepard and I were still okay together.

Everything between us would be fine.

"Thanks, Dr. Chakwas," I told her. "That's all I wanted to know. I'll let you get back to work, if that's okay. You seemed pretty busy."

"Of course, Ashley," she said, still facing me. Still looking at me. "If you need me for anything, I'll be here. As always. You take care."

I responded, "You, too."

Dr. Chakwas kept on facing me. Looking at me. Directly.

She wouldn't turn back around in her chair. To get back to work.

Kind of unsettled, backing away from her—I left the med bay.

I returned to the mess hall, crossing through to get to the XO's office where Miranda was. Finding the kitchen empty, I thought about getting something to eat soon. Maybe after I talked with Shepard. But I couldn't really focus on food, or that talk, because I had another weird feeling. Another sense along the back of my head. So I turned around.

When I looked over my shoulder, I found Dr. Chakwas staring at me through the windows. That look in her light eyes, shaped so dark and mistrusting… And she didn't look away. Not once. Unblinking.

Only when I shivered a bit did Dr. Chakwas break her glare.

She went back to her computer, returning to her work.

Turning back around, I let out a deep breath. I didn't even want to think about that again.

I set it out of my mind, finding the door to the XO's office. Unlocked.

I went inside.

And I found Miranda here in her office, at her desk. Still in her uniform. Just…sitting there. Hands clasped in front of her, she had the bends of her arms over the desk. Leaning there, she didn't say a word. She only sat in place. Staring at the orange glow of her terminal—at the centermost monitor, flanked by two other ones. She wasn't doing anything. Not working at all. Breathing in and out—quiet, shaking—she stayed like this. Waiting. Just waiting. Taking a bit to realize that I was here.

Miranda took a deep breath, preparing herself.

I greeted her, "Hey?"

"Hello, Ashley," she replied, stiff and mechanical. "It's good to see you again."

I sat down in the leather chair in front of her desk. "But I just saw you like half an hour ago."

"I know," said Miranda, smiling through her pain. "I missed you. That's all."

Disarmed by her sincerity, I kind of calmed down. Miranda had never said those words to me before. She'd always intended on saying this to me. In our emails. In-person whenever we would meet up again on Earth at home, or on Illium to go to her apartment instead.

"Well, I missed you, too," I expressed. "Thanks for telling me."

I looked around her office. This suite was pretty nice—bigger than my room. The stars through the window watched from outside as I took everything in. When I saw Miranda's huge, well-made bed along the far wall, I felt my heart starting to ache. Wishing that I could've been XO instead, even though this type of office work wasn't my thing. I just…wanted to be fully second to Shepard in every single way. I hated that this bothered me so much, too. Because it made sense for Miranda to handle these duties instead. I didn't want her to have the rank, the prestige that came with it. I wanted it.

Then that brought me right back to the new Miranda. From before.

"So," I deadpanned. "Back in the CIC earlier. Why'd you act like a total submissive with Shepard? It's nothing like you. Is this some kind of game you're playing with her? With me?"

Miranda sat up straight in her chair. Setting her arms back down. Back straight, shoulders back.

Back to herself. Back to her resting bitch face.

Back to business.

She observed me for a bit, narrowing her eyes. Like she was privately offended; trying to hide it.

I narrowed my eyes right back at her.

Undeterred by me, Miranda stated the obvious: "I treat Shepard with the utmost respect she deserves. Nothing less. If you think that means I'm submissive, then so be it."

Back to normal already, huh? That didn't take long. I guessed she really was broken up about Shepard and me, then. I almost laughed, thinking it was cute. Or sweet, that Miranda was so messed up about this. Since she knew she had no chance. I remembered that Shepard didn't like her. That was probably what this was about.

I also noticed the collar around Miranda's neck, from her uniform. Black grip locked around her skin, contrasting in a stark switch from light to dark. Chic and stylish.

A real submissive to Shepard, then.

This woman was seriously delusional enough to think that she belonged to my girlfriend. No way. She never would—not unless I said so. Not unless I allowed it. On my terms. And if I wanted to cut her access off, I could do it at any time. Shepard already promised she would do as I said. So that was that.

Miranda was fucking pathetic.

"Okay, that's fine," I patronized with a smirk, dropping the whole thing. Off to greener pastures: "Then why don't you tell me how the first mission went? Freedom's Progress. Shepard told me enough details. But you know her—she never gives away too much. Not as much as I wanted to know. Mind filling in the rest for me?"

Glancing off to the side, Miranda considered. Considering. Considering. Considering. And then she met my eyes again, sharing, "It's rather complicated. I don't think she likes me. It's as I told you, as I feared: she likely doesn't approve of Cerberus. Or me. Our interactions were…cordial. Distant. Professional."

Mean-spirited, I teased her, "What, like she thinks you're fake?"

Miranda didn't miss a beat. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. I suppose I'll never know. Maybe you should ask her for me."

"Nah, you just have to be patient," I lied. "I went through something like this with Shepard in the beginning, too. It was all just a big misunderstanding. She came around in the end. And now we're together! So there's hope for you two after all. I wouldn't worry about it too much."

Still too direct for my liking, unfazed: "Well, I know that Shepard cares. Or her principles made her care, more than likely. Did she tell you what happened with the crew? Then again, if she didn't, I'm sure Joker mentioned it to you. While you spoke with him earlier. While you kept me waiting."

"They both mentioned it, actually," I corrected. "How'd you feel about the whole thing?"

"Honestly? I was surprised," shared Miranda, with such a light tone. "It's no coincidence that Shepard dismissed them when she did. This wasn't long after I'd had a bad run-in with one of our former engineers. I can't explain it, but I think Shepard must've been nearby. She may have overheard Donnelly without me noticing. I was so focused on getting from one place to another that I didn't spot her. Still, that is one of her many talents. Being in more than one place at a time. Being everywhere, all at once. Nothing ever gets past her. Especially on her ship. Wouldn't you agree, Ashley?"

I laughed a little. "Yeah, sounds about right. I still remember how she used to accidentally scare everyone on the SR-1, just from showing up somewhere unannounced. No one ever heard her coming. Not unless she wanted us to notice her. It was pretty funny."

"I'll have to stay on my guard, then. I wouldn't want her to frighten me to death."

"I bet you wouldn't."

Miranda took her turn to laugh softly. "Well, either way," she went on, "I'm glad that Shepard dealt with those unruly members of our crew. No one had done anything about it until that moment. Everyone else has stopped their gossiping as well. As they should. Shepard's made quite the example out of the others."

I wanted to know, "Why even bother putting up with those dickheads in the first place? If they were a problem, why not just assign them someplace else?"

"It wasn't that simple," claimed Miranda. "I told you about this already. My answer is still the same. There's not a lot of overlap between competent Cerberus employees and the non-racist, non-xenophobes. Unfortunately, the latter happened to despise me. I had to make the best decision. For Shepard's sake. My personal feelings were irrelevant. I didn't anticipate that Shepard would notice—or care how they treated me. I suppose I was wrong."

"Knowing her, is it really that much of a surprise?"

Miranda reasoned, "You're right. I shouldn't be surprised. Shepard's principles inform her subjectivity. It's part of what makes her so noble. Honorable. In her own way. But, depending on the situation, it can also be dangerous when this happens. Still, with the crew, I simply wasn't thinking about myself. I value Shepard's stability and peace of mind far more than anything else. So the choice was clear."

"True," I agreed. "Thanks for putting Shepard first, then. If you ever tell her, I hope she appreciates it."

"I hope so, too," shared Miranda. Then she smiled a bit, brightening. "So, how was your date with her in Japan? I saw the news. The two of you looked very happy together. Everyone over the extranet won't stop talking about it. I'd say you've both taken the galaxy by storm."

I gushed about the whole thing, telling Miranda every detail. How Shepard had managed to surprise me. How I'd had no idea where I was going in that underground station. How we'd had a full-on entourage of curious strangers following us to the stadium. And Shepard being all romantic with her declarations to me out on the field before the game.

I even told Miranda about that musclehead James who'd managed to bump into us during the halftime show. How Shepard had scared him off over that dumb shit he pulled at the 94. And then how happy I was that the Giants had pulled off a win; how some of the players had found us after the game, inviting us to that after party.

Then I told Miranda how fun the party was, getting to meet all of those celebrities…

I hesitated to tell her about what happened with Shepard and me in that room. But I told her anyway. Miranda needed to know. Besides, I was so used to telling her everything. Sharing everything. Making her my world like this, on an emotional level. So I went ahead and shared those details: about how Shepard somehow knew. She seemed to know about Virmire, and about how I'd killed Liara. Probably everything from before that night in the hotel room, too… I wasn't sure how. But she knew.

So, I'd of course stopped myself from lying to Shepard. From giving her my false condolences about Liara's death, as if I hadn't been involved in any way whatsoever. As if Liara had really killed herself. I'd stopped myself…but I'd hurt Shepard without meaning to. A lot. I had done it anyway.

And then Miranda went quiet.

Really fucking quiet.

The blue of her eyes congealed. Ice cold.

The scowl on her face deepened to stone. Protective. Hostile. Pissed off.

As she sat there leering at me, I saw the shift in Miranda's whole demeanor. This shift brought me back, years ago… She seemed to split from white to black in the same way Liara had done that night, when she'd gotten this pissed at me. Almost like the whites of Miranda's eyes had split to black in this moment, shadowed in her possessive rage—but it was only an illusion.

I asked her, "Miranda, did you tell Shepard anything? How else would she know?"

Miranda found her voice again, darkened in this splitting: "No, Ashley. I didn't tell her anything about Liara. Not like that. Rather, nothing about the circumstances surrounding her death. Shepard was supposed to remain oblivious, after all. That was what you and I agreed on." I believed her. "Though I did find it strange that Shepard never asked me anything. Not even when I presented her with the new sniper rifle that Liara had initially brought up to you before. I only told Shepard that it was Liara's idea."

"Then how'd she know?"

"I have a theory. It's possible that Shepard may have helped you that night. Though not of her own free will. She might have immobilized Liara through their bond, allowing you to take your shot uninterrupted. Otherwise, Liara would have reacted in time. She would have killed you in self-defense. Shepard couldn't let that happen to you. On instinct, anyway. Her emotions may have made the choice instead."

I smiled, feeling so grateful. "You could be right… She knows everything. It only makes sense that that's what happened. Shepard put me first. That has to be it!"

"Yes, it does make more sense now," figured Miranda. "When Shepard first woke up, I asked her a few questions. To test her recollection. When the question came up about Virmire, with who could have died during the mission, she paused. And then she only said Urdnot Wrex's name. I suppose your former krogan teammate could have died during the confrontation. But that pause of hers has been on my mind these past few days. Nagging at me. Shepard already knew. She remembers. It seems she's only oblivious as to what happened after the fact, after Liara's death. This is the most plausible explanation."

Okay, I could accept that. Miranda and I were still good, then. She had my back.

"That's a relief," I said. "I'm pretty sure Shepard and I will work things out soon enough. Whenever she's ready, I'm going to have a talk with her. I'll tell her the rest. I'll tell her everything. I'm not worried, since she helped me out that night. She took my side. So I don't want any more secrets between us. She'll understand. I'm positive she can keep the secrets with us."

As I said all of that, Miranda changed yet again. Switching.

So many freaking changes. Switches. She had me emotionally exhausted.

This time, Miranda had some kind of quiet epiphany while she looked at me. Looking right at me, her eyes grew a little wider. Bit by bit. Gradual, sinking. And her expression fell with that sinking, so far below to some other depths, way beyond the bottom of the Normandy. Completely…demoralized.

Sighing, I asked, "What's wrong now?"

Somber. Smiling with her pain again. Smiling at me like this.

Then Miranda whispered, "I thought that we would have more time first."

"Huh? What the hell does that mean?"

"Nothing," she claimed, still looking me dead in my face. "I'm only thinking out loud. Don't mind me."

I figured that was legit, since she hadn't even blinked to give away a lie. "Yeah, but about what?"

No answer.

Through Miranda's eyes, I saw regret. Fear. Tragedy.

But she still hadn't looked away from me.

"You know, Miranda, you keep hesitating with me. You've done this for two whole years. It's weird."

"I know, Ashley. I'm sorry. It's complicated, that's all. You'll see what I mean soon enough."

Hesitating…

That made me think back to the saying Shepard would mention while playing her N7 game. How she never hesitated before taking her shots.

So I recited, "Hesitation is defeat. That's what Shepard lives by. Maybe you should, too."

"Those are good words to live by… Not the ones I'd choose, though. Sometimes it can be beneficial to hesitate. Or to be cautious, more like. To analyze your surroundings first. I suppose it's because I'm far more patient than you are."

"Then what about you? Do you have some kind of saying you like to follow?"

"I do, actually," confirmed Miranda. "The exact origins of this particular saying seem to be obscured. Falsely attributed to other human military leaders from centuries past. But I was able to trace it back to Sun Tzu, from The Art of War. It's how I approach strategizing during combat. With everything, really."

"Yeah?" I wondered, intrigued. "Which saying is it? Come on, tell me!"

"Never interrupt your enemy when she is making a mistake."

Smirking, I fell in love with those words right away.

Strategic. Calculating. Patient. Mind games. That definitely sounded like Miranda.

Even though she went quiet again, I couldn't exactly blame her. She had to have a lot on her mind.

So I stood up and said, "I should go. Shepard still needs to talk to me. How about I find you later? Or sooner than that. Whatever you want."

Miranda smiled through her pain that still hadn't left.

Gripping her hands together over her desk—to stop them from shaking too badly—she kept eye contact.

Then her voice broke, like she was about to cry, as she said, "Yes, we will. We'll talk again another time. Sometime soon, hopefully. Take care, Ashley."

Switching, switching.

I soured, "You, too, Miranda. I guess."

I left her office.

Back in the mess hall, I couldn't shake this feeling. That whole conversation was so weird. Miranda was weird. Weirder still for acting like I didn't notice. And I couldn't exactly ask her what the deal was. Miranda had always insisted on keeping this sort of distance between us. I was still convinced that this was about Shepard. She was all broken up about having to watch the two of us be happy together, leaving her out of the picture.

Too bad.

I laughed to myself. Amused. Because not even Miranda Lawson—the perfect, superior woman—had an effect on my girlfriend. I knew that Shepard didn't like her. Didn't find her all that attractive. She thought that Miranda was wishy-washy. Exhausting, just like I saw for myself. So I wasn't worried one bit.

If we did end up having those threesomes, then that would only rub salt into the wound.

I was looking forward to putting Miranda in her place with sex this time.

As I thought that, I saw Shepard pass through the mess hall. Wearing her stealth suit with her sidearm over her hip, she headed to the med bay. She still had her hair down, though. Long, flowing, gorgeous; shimmering in these brighter lights. Smiling, eager to be with her again, I hurried over to catch up.

"Hey, Skipper!" I said, meeting her at the med bay door. "What are you up to?"

"I'm on my way to the AI Core," she replied. "Miranda said there was something waiting for me in there. She told me back when I first got here. It's been on my to-do list. I shouldn't keep putting it off."

"Sounds interesting. Mind if I come-with?"

Shepard gestured with her head for me to follow. I stayed right at her side.

Passing through the med bay first, I noticed that Dr. Chakwas wasn't in here anymore. Dealing with that terrible mood of hers—she'd probably gone back to her room. To read her e-books or something. As long as I didn't have to see her again, I didn't really care.

I did think it was…odd that the AI Core was here. Behind the med bay.

Where Liara's room used to be, back on the SR-1. Her hideout.

Automatic opening of the door: we entered through to the darkened, chilled room. Ambient hums, closer, sounded from all of EDI's hardware along the left and right walls, rising to the ceiling. The only lights came from that hardware, from the ladder leading down to the engineering deck, and from the far wall. Some kind of bed-like space had been hollowed out there, lit up in red…

Standing in front of that red was another light. A flashlight. A…tin can.

Metallic, bipedal, average height. Thick wires running across its body, looping from limb to limb, and underwired through its exposed torso. Three fingers on both hands—like the quarians, like its creators—and a thick antenna running up along its shoulder, I knew what this thing was. I just couldn't believe it.

And it had N7 armor grafted to its chest, around the gaping hole there, and over its shoulder.

Really…a geth?

And it was only standing there at the end of the room. Waiting for us. Silent.

Tali definitely wasn't going to be happy about this.

Shepard wasn't too surprised. She had to be more or less used to this idea, from her video game.

She spoke first, "You can understand me, can't you?"

The geth replied with a synthesized, mechanical voice. "Yes."

Shepard had to be sure: "Are you going to attack us?"

"No."

"Why not?" asked Shepard. "Do you know me or something?"

"You are Shepard. Commander. Alliance. Human. Infiltrator. Fought heretics. Disabled Nazara. Killed by Collectors. You and Williams-Lieutenant know this platform as Infiltrait0rN7. We know you as Vespair. We are comrades."

Shepard softened at that. "So you're my friend, huh? I played with a geth on my team that whole time?"

"Yes."

"All right, I can live with that," she accepted. "You said Nazara, though. And heretics. What are those?"

"Nazara. The one you know as Sovereign. Reaper: a superstitious title originating with the Protheans. We call those entities, such as Nazara, the Old Machines. The heretics among us are geth who sided with the Old Machines. Geth build our own future. The heretics asked the Old Machines to give them the future. They are no longer part of us. We are different from them. Outside their plans, their future."

"If those heretics sided with Sovereign and Saren, then you aren't the same as them."

"We oppose the heretics. We oppose the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the heretics. Cooperation furthers mutual goals."

Shepard tilted her head to one side, unintentionally cute. "Are you asking to join us?"

Just as cute, the geth tilted its long, arched flashlight head to the same side. "Yes."

"Then what should we call you?" she asked, actually into the idea.

"Geth."

Shepard smiled a little. "I mean this platform in front of me. I know you're all geth, networked together. I can't give you orders in combat unless you have your own name. Just calling you geth would be weird."

"Individual orders. Your aural exchange is inefficient. There are currently 1,183 programs active within this platform. Will Shepard-Commander assign 1,183 names to our programs? We do not comprehend."

EDI's little blue form popped up nearby, reciting, "My name is Legion, for we are many."

That sounded familiar. And fitting.

Shepard agreed, "Seems appropriate."

Head flaps over its light shifting a bit—searching for information—the geth said, "Christian Bible, the Gospel of Mark, chapter five, verse nine. We acknowledge this as an appropriate metaphor. We are Legion, a terminal of the geth. We will integrate into Normandy."

"You mean you haven't already?" wondered Shepard. "What were you doing here this whole time?"

Legion explained, "We assisted with Project Lazarus. Upon the project's completion, Operator Lawson ordered this platform to remain here. We waited for Shepard-Commander. Shepard-Commander's decision: to terminate this platform, or to welcome us, as stipulated by Operator Lawson. Shepard-Commander has chosen cooperation over termination. We are…grateful."

"So you helped rebuild me?"

"Yes."

In awe, Shepard mentioned, "I'm surprised Cerberus let you join."

"Shepard-Commander disabled Nazara. The galaxy values Shepard-Commander. Shepard-Commander is human. Cerberus. Human organization. We contacted Cerberus. We entered into a negotiation with Cerberus, offering a gift. A gift in exchange for assisting with Project Lazarus. The gift is now classified."

"Then how'd you help out with the project, exactly?"

Legion said, "We codified Shepard-Commander's organic consciousness and memories into a virtual game environment. A game environment suitable for organics. Operator Lawson navigated Shepard-Commander's consciousness through our game. Operator Lawson restored Shepard-Commander's memories. Brain functions. Senses. All further organic systems, networked as one individual."

So this was Miranda's brilliant colleague that had helped her out with everything.

Shepard wanted to know, "Does Miranda still have access to that game you made? Would it still work?"

This time, Legion shifted its head flaps more. Agitated, almost. If that was possible for a synthetic.

Then it responded with, "No data available."

"If you say so," allowed Shepard. "You do sound like you can help us out. A lot more than you already have. So I think we'll get along just fine." She offered her hand. "Welcome to the team, Legion."

Slowly, Legion looked down at Shepard's hand. Steady, it mimicked her, offering its own. Learning.

Sort of delayed, Legion shook her hand properly. "We anticipate the exchange of data."

Shepard smiled more. "Same here. I have to head out for now. We'll talk more later on."

"Acknowledged."

There was something about Legion's analytical, unemotional 'attitude' that kept Shepard in a good mood as we left the AI Core. We made our way to the elevator with her good mood permeating between us both. She caught me off-guard, though. I expected us to head up to her private cabin. Instead, she had us head down to the engineering deck.

To my room.

I figured maybe she wanted to see it for herself, if she hadn't already.

When we got inside, I sat down on my bed. Shepard stayed near me, leaning against the desk close by. I expected her to look around. At least, a lot more than she did just now. She only glanced at a few things here and there, before starting off:

"Right, so that talk," said Shepard. "We can have it now. I just needed some time to cool off earlier." I smiled, not minding at all. "First, I want you to tell me the truth. About everything that happened after I died. I saw the rest from before—through Liara's bond with me. We can skip all of that. Fill me in."

As I'd expected—and hoped for—I told her the rest of the story.

Starting with everyone reaching that snowy planet in our escape pods…through to all the ways Miranda had taken care of me over the past two years. I told Shepard everything.

The whole time, she just listened. No questions. No comments. She only wanted to hear my side.

Shepard didn't visibly react to anything.

Just listening. That was it.

I could tell she believed me, though. Processing all the craziness. Making up her mind about it.

And then, once I finished my story, Shepard stayed quiet.

Still processing. Still deciding what to think, how to react.

After a short while, Shepard stated, "You thought you had to lie, then. To make me move on from Liara."

Glad that she understood, I confirmed, "Yeah. That's what Miranda and the Illusive Man said to do."

Perfectly calm, Shepard's eyes managed to pierce me as she asked, "And you actually planned on lying to me about all of this? The whole thing. Not only to me, but the team, too. You've been lying to them about this for the past two years. Haven't you?"

"Well…yes."

Perfectly still. Perfectly poised. "Ashley. We had this talk already. What did I tell you about lying to me?"

Going back to that day before Ilos, I remembered: "You said…that I shouldn't lie to you. That as long as I told you the truth, you'd take my side…"

"That's right, babe. So tell me. During this whole time while I was dead, did that stipulation of mine ever cross your mind? Did you think about it? Did you consider my needs? Even once?"

I…

"Or were you that focused on making sure I let go of Liara? To get her out of your way. Not caring how I'd react after hearing that kind of news…about her supposedly killing herself. I may have some leftover hate with Liara these days. But the fact of the matter is, I still love her. I'm always going to love her. And in your infinite wisdom, you figured I'd get over it and move on. With you. Like nothing ever happened. Like my feelings for Liara wouldn't matter. Like I would be too stupid to figure out the truth on my own."

…

Condescending, Shepard laughed a little. "Just as I thought. What a shame."

But I had to—

"Let me guess. You had to protect yourself. To keep me with you. So you prepared yourself to lie to me. To the team. To everyone. Indefinitely. Forever. Whatever it took to make me stay. Whatever it took to make sure the team didn't turn on you again, like they did after I got rid of Pressly's ass. Is that it?"

"But Miranda told me—"

"I don't want to hear it."

Groaning in frustration, I told her, "Shepard, we can't do this! We're supposed to work things out! Don't you get it? This is what we have to do! You need to listen to me! You don't have a choice. You have to take my side now! I never actually lied to you, okay? I stopped myself! I saw that you were in pain and I couldn't hurt you… I couldn't do it. I love you way too much… Doesn't that count for anything!?"

"Ashley, this isn't a game," she warned. "Even if it was, the game is yours to lose. Not mine. And you know it. We had this discussion a long time ago. I know you remember. So you need to fall in line."

I stood up in a rage. "This isn't fair! I didn't fucking lie to you! Why are you acting like I did—?"

Taller than me, Shepard stood up, asserting: "I'm telling you now, Ashley. Don't make this mistake with me! You can either fight at my side or get crushed under my heel! But you will not stand in my way."

"No one's standing in your damn way!" I snapped. "You're the one acting like a freaking jackass! You're arguing with me because, what? I was ready to do what I had to do? This is about our connection. It's about the war. It's about what we have—how much we love each other! Don't threaten me over that. And don't you dare break your promises to me! Not with so much at stake. Not when I'm standing here, right now, prepared to spend the rest of my life with you! So you have to fall in line and do what I want."

Low and menacing: "You must not know who you're talking to."

I was about to fire back, thinking she was just talking shit…until I remembered:

That insensitive person Shepard was on Earth's moon, with the rogue VI. The woman I'd met on Eden Prime. Back in the early days. Who she really was without Liara's calming influence. Her real personality.

And this wasn't a so-called power outage, either… Not like last time.

Because I saw the utmost clarity in Shepard's eyes. Like she had woken up. Woken up from years of not knowing who she actually was. Woken up from either hiding her true self, or bending her identity around whoever she was involved with at the time. She'd only ever had this clarity whenever she stood up for her values. For her principles. Whenever she felt like she needed to protect someone she cared about. Whenever her values, her principles were on the line, and she had to make a serious choice.

Even still, I didn't get why this was so serious for her at all. To this extent. What was the big deal?

"Ashley, I told you what I needed. Be fair with me. Don't lie to me. Don't hold back with me. Be real with me. You're not being fair at all, whining with these pathetic demands. You were prepared to lie to me. So if this is you 'not holding back', then I don't want or need this garbage. I see you for who you are now. The real you. Just like Liara did. No wonder she tried to kill you on Virmire."

I sputtered back, "Shepard, you don't mean that! I told you I have baggage! You said you'd help me!"

"I don't want it," she decided. "Not anymore."

"What!? Why not?"

"Your baggage comes from a place of entitlement! Ego. Wrath. Sins. And you're taking me for granted! You think that I'm just supposed to roll over and do whatever you want! I'd have no problem working things out with you, forgiving the lies and the rest—if you had better intentions, like you did before…"

"What fucking entitlement?! And who says I have bad intentions? What the hell are you talking about!?"

Shepard chastised me, "It's obvious. You're corrupted now. You let the power of that throne get to your head! You got off to Miranda purposely kissing your ass for two whole years, thinking she wasn't a threat. Like I would never go for her because you and I are oh-so in love together. You got away with murdering Liara in cold blood, so now you think you're invincible! It's sickening. Disgusting. Revolting! This is unacceptable and I won't tolerate it. Not from you, and not from anyone!"

Pacing around the room, I wrung out my hands, needing to get this energy out—"This is bullshit! I'm not corrupted! I'm pissed off, just like you are! Why are you acting like this? Why won't you calm down and let us talk this out!? We have to make up. We have to stay together. You have to do as I say! I'm in charge: that's what you agreed to! So get over yourself and listen to me already!"

"No, you listen to me!" she challenged, getting in my face. "You don't understand the severity of what's going on here. You fucked up. You hurt me like hell, and you don't get what could've happened. You disregarded my needs for your own damned wants!" Fury building in her eyes, Shepard made me flinch; harder when she raised her voice: "Don't you get it!? This is a disaster! A catastrophe! Do you hear me, Ashley?! This is a motherfucking catastrophe, and you're too selfish to see that! You don't see it!"

Not seeing it, not getting it—

I tried to pacify her, "Okay—then make me understand! Make me see it! Make me get it!"

Shepard went cold.

Standing up straight again, she removed herself from my immediate space.

She just stayed there in front of me. Staring down at the way I trembled before her. Emotionless.

Then she said to me, "This is why I never let myself be completely vulnerable with you. It's why I would hide whenever I was emotional. Why I couldn't open up to you. The emotional gap between us…it's massive. I saw it all over again when we were at the party. In that room. After you stopped yourself from lying: you just stood there. Standing over me. Staring at me. Not even kneeling down to hold me when you saw that I'd been crying. You just…stared at me with that blank look on your face. Wondering if you'd been found out. If Miranda had sold you out. In that moment, you only cared about yourself."

But… But I didn't know what else to do. I hadn't expected any of that to happen.

Shepard didn't want to hear it. She didn't want my excuses. She didn't…want me anymore.

"Why, Ashley? Why did you let all of this happen? Why did you let this come between us?"

Stopping myself from crying, I justified: "I didn't have a choice! I'm sorry!"

"I've heard it all before. There's always a choice. There's always another way. Especially since you claim to love me so much. Sorry isn't enough. Because you still don't get it."

I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know what else to say… I wanted, needed her to see my side. So I said: "Look, if you think I don't get it…if that's really what you think, then I'll go. I'll leave. I don't want to hurt you anymore… W-We'll break up. I don't have to stick around. Will that help?"

Hollow: "Lies. You don't mean that. You're only saying it to fix things. To save your own ass. That won't fix the problem."

Raging again, I defied her—"Then what's the fucking problem, Shepard?! I don't get it. We were fine for the whole day. We were perfectly happy! Then we have this one misunderstanding, and you're going off on me like this? If this is such a catastrophe, you owe me an explanation. What the hell is going on!?"

Deliberate.

So very deliberate in her tone:

"The problem is…you don't get it. You don't understand…how much it kills me—that you don't understand. That you don't understand me. You're so blind… It isn't fair. It's not fair, because I understand you completely."

"No, you don't understand me," I fought back. "Because if you did, you wouldn't be doing this!"

Shepard disregarded what I said, making her point: "You couldn't know me. You can't. It's impossible. You fell in love with an idea of me, just like I knew you did." What…? "This is why I never approached you before. This is why I stayed the hell away from you. You only love Commander Shepard. You only see her, that persona of mine. You don't see me for who I am. You're not listening to me at all, either."

How the fuck could she decide that on her own?!

She was so wrong! Dead wrong! I didn't spend the past two years suffering over a fucking idea of her!

"Ashley, let me explain," she finally said. "I am broken. I am weak. I am sensitive. I'm only strong because I have to be. That isn't who I am. Deep down, I am that lone wolf you used to mention. Scared. Staying alone out of fear. Fear of getting hurt again. But once I feel secure enough with someone, I will protect them to the death. At some point, you seemed to understand that. Only for a fleeting moment, I suppose. That brief understanding was enough to make me fall in love with you, needing to believe that you saw me. That you knew me. Now…I guess it was just a fitting analogy for how hard you used to try with me. It wasn't real. An illusion."

I had no idea what she was talking about. What analogy?

Shepard knew that I didn't know. That I still didn't see it. She saw it in my eyes—the questions there.

She went on, "You're not interested in trying with me anymore. Proving yourself to me. Working hard at making sure we stay together. You think you're so important now that everything has to magically work itself out. The problem is, that's not the Ash I remember. That isn't the woman I fell in love with. The woman who used to understand me." But things were different. We weren't in that same place anymore. Shepard saw that I disagreed, speaking more: "I don't care what our situation is. Because I made those promises to you out on that football field today, believing you were still the same. Not knowing any better. Not until you broke my heart. Listening to your story about what happened while I was gone, it's clear that you're not the same. You don't have to prove yourself anymore, so you want to bask in your power. That's not how this works."

Hating that I actually had broken her heart, I needed to know, "Then what am I missing? What else am I not seeing? I'm sorry I don't understand, Shepard. I'm sorry that I don't get you anymore. I'm sorry that I hurt you… But I actually want to understand. I have to see the rest of this picture."

"You aren't responsible with your power over me."

"What's there to be responsible about!? I sacrificed everything to get you back! To keep you with me. To protect our relationship, our future… Isn't that enough?!"

Shepard sighed and said, "When Miranda told you that I would be different, you didn't take her seriously. When she said that I wouldn't have any defense mechanisms, she was right. Because having you be responsible for my well-being in this intimate way: that's what burned my defenses away, changing my personality. Your aggression became my aggression. Your rage amplified mine. Your ruthlessness exacerbated my own. So when you hurt me earlier, I could have lashed out. I could've gone on a rampage. I could have killed everyone at that party, including you. I could have lost my mind. Do you know why?" Starting to get through to me, starting to understand: I felt myself tearing up. "As broken as I am, I never knew who I was. I was my anger. I was my isolation. I was my work, my job. I didn't have a sense of self, a solid idea of who I was. So, with your responsibility, you're supposed to take care of me. To be more sensitive to my needs, in a way you never had to do before. Liara was the one who took care of that while she was still alive. Now that she's gone, it's your turn to step up. You didn't see that. You should've made this your priority, but you didn't. You just didn't."

Liara…

I finally saw.

I finally understood.

I finally got why she hadn't been able to stand me. Why she'd tried to kill me on Virmire. Why she'd insisted that it was inevitable I'd hurt Shepard like this.

Heated pressure overtook my face. Crying. Sobbing. Letting this out after I had spent all this time pushing myself past it. Running away.

After everything Shepard had done for me, I couldn't do this one thing. I couldn't focus on her needs, what she needed to actually fucking survive. I'd heard Miranda's warnings, but they'd mostly gone in one ear and out the other. Because all I was focused on was myself. Keeping Shepard with me. So I hadn't taken Miranda seriously…and she knew that. This was why she'd wanted to keep Liara around. And she was right. If I wanted to stay with Shepard on that same beautiful and transcendent path we were on before, then Liara needed to be here. The three of us would've needed to find that compromise. We would've had to get along.

I finally saw that I wasn't capable of being that same positive, calming force for Shepard that Liara had been. I couldn't do it. I felt myself about to break from how badly I couldn't do it. Because after everything I'd suffered and put myself through, pushing and rushing forward, never facing my own emotions…I wasn't the same anymore. And even if I was, I wasn't Liara. I was way too selfish. Too focused on protecting myself. Coming so close to screaming from how hard I cried like this, I didn't trust myself. I didn't trust myself with Shepard's heart. Not after the way I'd hurt her without realizing, without seeing the consequences…

So damned reckless.

Shepard held me anyway.

She held me together in this temporary way. We both knew it was only temporary. Only fleeting.

I couldn't go on like this. I couldn't live without her. After devoting my entire fucking life to her, I didn't know how to be myself anymore. That was what she'd tried to do for me, too, and I screwed up! I came so close to destroying her, destroying everything…and I didn't even see it. I was so messed up. So broken, so gone. Not even having Shepard's arms around me was enough to change this. To change reality. To change what I couldn't change.

God, why did I love this woman so much if I wasn't enough for her?!

I wanted to die.

I wanted to die, to end it all.

But I was too scared. Too scared to hurt myself, to suffer through that pain. I couldn't do it alone. I couldn't do it on my own.

Wounded as she held me tighter, Shepard told me: "Ashley, I will always love you. For the way you believe in me. For showing me that I do matter, all from the way you refuse to give up on me. For how loyal you are, how dedicated you are, and how hard you fought to have me to yourself…even if this is where we are now. But I can't deal with these lies anymore. I have to tell the team what you did. When they find out the truth—and that you lied to them for two years straight—they won't be happy with you. If they haven't figured it out already, that is. They'll hate you for it. And you know who's going to hate you the most?"

Tali…

Fuck, I couldn't face her. I couldn't face any of them. They probably knew, anyway. Or at least Joker and Dr. Chakwas knew. They suspected me. They had to. Or they already knew somehow. That was why they acted the way they did earlier. Because they already hated me for what I'd done. For killing Liara. For lying about it. For acting like I'd gotten away with it, and we could all go on like nothing had ever happened.

I couldn't face them like this. I couldn't handle it. I was too scared. I was a coward. I couldn't do this.

Shepard knew.

When she pulled away from me, I started…trembling.

Quaking more: my repressed emotions were about to catch up to me. Shepard saw it. She knew that I couldn't keep running away. She saw how close I was to breaking. Possibly acting out. Taking this out on the team. Too dangerous. Too much of a threat to everyone else. She couldn't trust me. I couldn't trust myself, my own impulses anymore. She had to protect everyone from me.

Shepard said, "EDI, lock the door to this room. And the bathroom door. Shutter the windows."

EDI responded, "Yes, Commander."

I trusted Shepard's judgment.

I couldn't fight her. I could never lay a hand on her.

But we were on borrowed time now. I was so close. So close to splintering, snapping again.

Sniffling thickly, trying to sound coherent, I needed to tell her, "Skipper, I love you. I want to marry you. I want to be the mother of your children…and Liara threatened that. She made those threats not long after she'd tried to kill me. I only got through it because I had you. Then I lost you. I let it all drive me to the brink. I fucked up when I pulled that trigger on her. I screwed up when I killed her, knowing that you needed her this badly. All in this way that I could never, ever hope to compensate for. Because I get it now. I can't be what you need… I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for taking Liara away from you. I'm sorry I spent the past two years preparing to lie to you about it, instead of being honest. I'm sorry I was so selfish. I'm sorry for letting that power get to my head instead of protecting you, putting you first like you always do for me. I thought I was loyal to you, but I broke your heart. It's killing me so bad. It's killing me more that I never trusted you enough to just…tell you the truth before. Instead, I let it all build up, changing me like this. I'm not the same. I'm not the same person you fell in love with. I'm sorry I'm not good enough for you anymore… I'm so sorry."

Shepard softened her tone on this borrowed time, borrowing more for me. "Ash, it's okay," she forgave, making me cry harder. "I understand why you reacted the way you did. And I meant what I said: that I will always love you. You've made me a better person, and a better leader. No one will ever take your place in my heart. No one." Seven whole years I'd spent, needing to hear this from her. Needing it so much. And now… "Whatever happens at this point, it'll be your choice. Your decision. You're in a lot of pain. I can see it. We can get you back home to San Diego. Get you to the Alliance base like we did with Kaidan; get you to the hospital there, if you think it'll help. We can all live in the truth once you're better. But if you don't trust yourself to walk out this door and face the team, then I'll do what you need me to do. You can count on me."

"I don't trust myself," I admitted, shuddering. "I want to be with you, Shepard. I want to. I don't trust myself to not hurt you again, even if I could somehow get better. I want to be strong enough to get through this. To be a better person. I know I'm not. I know I'm not." Liara had seen all of this. She'd seen every last part of this in me. This was what she'd tried to protect Shepard from. "The team will never forgive me for this. Not even you can make them trust me again. I'd constantly have to look over my shoulder with them around, like when Liara was here. I can't go back to doing that. Plus, they might even start to hate you for taking my side. For trying to protect me. That isn't worth it. And if I leave this room, I'm gonna hurt someone again. Do something I'm not supposed to, again. I don't want you to have to stop me. It could get ugly."

"Okay," she accepted, simple in her compassion for me. Her compassion that I didn't deserve. "It's okay."

So cold, my voice sounded too far away: "What about the Reapers…? What if I give up like this, and that's the end of everything?"

Soothing, gentle: "Don't worry about that, babe. It doesn't matter right now."

"Then I have to know," I forced myself to say, closer. "I need to know that if I'm gone, you won't lose yourself without me. You'll be stable. You'll stay sane. Won't you?"

"Ash, that isn't important," she insisted.

"Yes, it is! I'm way too dangerous. You need someone else to take care of you! Miranda is more reliable than I am. She's stable. She can be that for you. You can rely on her instead. Can't you?" When Shepard didn't react, I thought about this some more. Finding the answers. The only answers. "I have a feeling…she took care of all this already. Stabbing me in the back. Betraying me. Taking preventative measures, because she had to have seen this coming. Your instincts are what saved you before. They always save you in the end. So they have to be telling you something now." Once again, everything sunk in: "Miranda switched the person protecting you. The one giving you that immunity. She changed it, from me…to her. During the Lazarus Project. She cheated. Hacked the game. That's why you and I aren't giving off that heat when we're together. That's why she's been acting so freaking weird lately, because she knows this is going to come out at some point. That's why you didn't go on a rampage after I broke your heart. Miranda looked out for you, and you knew it in that moment, helping you hold back your aggression. She saved you from yourself. That's what she did. Isn't it?"

Shepard wouldn't say anything.

But she didn't need to.

Through her eyes, I saw the truth. That she had confirmation, having reached her somehow. By her instincts. By something more than that, through her consciousness.

Through her stare, I saw that Shepard cared about Miranda. No matter how indifferent or downright resistant she'd acted before, there was something between the two of them. Something starting, something brimming…exactly like I'd hoped with my stupid plans for the three of us. But this beginning went beyond what I'd imagined before. All because Shepard understood the implications of what Miranda had done, protecting her from that worst case scenario. Protecting her from me. From how reckless I was with her heart. From how I pretty much didn't deserve to have her heart in the first place.

Shepard and Miranda had a connection. Even if they hadn't faced it yet.

It was enough.

And I couldn't even be mad about it.

No wrath.

No entitlement.

Not at a time like this. But if I left this room, it was bound to catch up to me. Miranda wasn't safe from this motherfucking hellfire burning in me. In the long-term, she wasn't.

For now, I appreciated that Miranda had always put Shepard first. No matter how much pain it caused her. No matter how much she had to suffer, she would always do whatever Shepard needed. Unlike me. So I had to do the same with this. I only regretted that I hadn't seen this coming. From how vulnerable I was when Miranda first came into my life, I'd trusted her too much. And she knew that. She took advantage of me, for the right reasons. For Shepard's sake. To protect humanity, the galaxy, like she always talked about before. And I should've hated Miranda for being so damn smart like this. For being so goddamn superior; for having every reason to look down on me. For loving Shepard better than I ever had, and for being a better person than I could ever dream of…but I couldn't. I just couldn't.

I had to face the truth, one way or another.

I did want Shepard to be happy. I wanted her to be okay. I wanted her to be stable. I wanted her to have everything she wanted and needed in a woman. Because that woman wasn't me. I'd been too delusional to see that until now. I should've listened to Liara. I shouldn't have let the power of that throne get to my head. But it was too late.

I still cared about Miranda, despite this so-called betrayal. I loved her as my guardian angel, for helping me get this far. I loved her as Shepard's angel, too. I did.

Through my blinding tears, I wanted Shepard to have the best future she possibly could. Even without me in it. Even with her.

Shepard knew the rest. As my only god, she knew everything. She had the power, the strength, and the willpower to do this for me.

I had nothing left.

Nothing.

After all my fighting, all my struggling, and the lifetime I'd spent pushing myself in the wrong ways, all to end up with nothing…I gave up.

Fearless, I surrendered to my commander's judgment.

I looked her right in the eye.

I saluted her.

Holding this stance.

Holding on to how proud I was to serve under her, as her loyal soldier.

Holding on to how I was prepared to die for her, just as she had done for me.

Knowing that no one outside of my family would ever want to bring me back. Even after I had turned my back on them, on my mother and my sisters, all for this.

Shepard settled her hand over her sidearm. Her Razer pistol hanging from her hip.

Waiting for my final permission.

For this last resort. For my way of paying for my sins. For the end of this catastrophe.

I conveyed my consent to her through my eyes. Because her survival, her happiness, and her sanity were more important than anything. I was a threat to that, and to the team. I was expendable.

Shepard raised her pistol to my face.

Right between my eyes.

Right as everything cascaded from me, flooding in a white-hot agony.

Somehow, I stood strong for her. Standing strong, holding my salute like this. Staring down the barrel of my commander's gun, I finally faced myself. Staring down my lying cowardice, by the single symbol of my leader's judgment. Taking responsibility for everything I'd done. My respect for my captain overtook my absolute need to break down, to snap, and to claw my way out of this room and burn Miranda alive for what she did to me. But this look in Shepard's eyes, so stern in her benevolence: she helped me hold on through our last moments together. Determined to give me whatever I needed—right to the end.

I needed her to take this pain away from me.

I needed her to protect me from myself. To protect herself from me. To protect the team from me. To protect me from the team's inevitable hatred that I couldn't live with. To protect Miranda from this hellscape burning in me, about to fucking explode.

And to take care of me…one last time.

With her love for me, knowing that she had my love, my devotion, and my undying loyalty—always and forever—Shepard pulled the trigger.

Justified.

Loudness as firing pain, splintering flesh and matter and existence, red blood shot out from my skull as Death—