Events of the chapter: Wrex and Miranda visit an unconscious Shepard aboard the SSV Osaka

Author's note: These initial chapters are fairly short as I portray the immediate aftermath of the war in snapshots. The meat of the story will contain longer chapters.

Song: "Fox in the Snow" - Grandaddy (cover of Belle & Sebastian)


CHAPTER 5: Dormancy

1 week after the Reaper War

Wrex and Miranda disembarked and advanced toward the young private who was on duty in the shuttle bay. The private clutched his weapon tighter as he looked the pair up and down nervously, intimidated by the imposing Krogan leader and the curvy, confident officer.

"Who do we speak to about Commander Shepard? We need access to her straight away," demanded Miranda.

"C-C-Commander Shepard is in the ICU ward. You'll need to speak with the doctor on duty first," the private stammered.

"And where would THAT be?" asked Wrex.

"Deck number four, sir."

Wrex smirked and slapped the young private on the back. "Thanks, pal."

The young private stumbled forward. Hand on her hip, Miranda shook her head and wished him a pleasant day.


A perky administrator greeted the visitors at the elevator doors. "Ms. Lawson, I was told you'd be coming today. Thank you for your generous offer."

"I insist," replied Miranda. Having overseen the development and fitting of Shepard's cybernetic implants, Miranda was the only person left with intimate knowledge of their unique design and capabilities. "I am more than happy to assist your doctors with her care," she added.

"Yes, of course. If you'll follow me." The administrator led them down a dim corridor. "And...may I ask who your companion is...?"

"Urdnot Wrex. Leader of Clan Urdnot. Krogan Battlemaster," Wrex stated flatly.

"Ahh, yes. Um, well you'll have to wait outside the ICU, Mr...Wrex," she hesitated. "Only authorized staff allowed. I'm very sorry."

"Sure," grunted Wrex.

"I'll let you know how she is as soon as I can, Wrex," said Miranda.

"Appreciate it," replied Wrex.

Miranda stepped through the door, nearly tripping over a bundle of thick cables that crossed the floor of the decontamination chamber. The cruiser, one of only three specially commissioned hospital ships in the Alliance fleet, had suffered extensive damage during the last week of the war. Whatever facilities were still in tact were being held together by the willpower and resourcefulness of its crew.

The decontamination process completed and the second set of chamber doors opened. Dr. Marques, a short, middle-aged woman with short, brown hair, scurried past Miranda, on her way to a patient's bedside. An unremitting alarm beeped until the doctor administered a dose of antibiotics. Unaware of Miranda's presence, she scanned her omnitool for the patient's vitals one more time to ensure that he was stable.

Miranda cleared her throat. "Um, excuse me..."

"Oh, meu deus! I didn't see you there!" yelped Dr. Marques.

"My apologies ma'am, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you the nurse in this ward?"

The doctor took off her visor and cleaned it on the corner of coat. "We've hardly any nurses here. Too many of them went to work in the field on Earth, not many came back. I'm Dr. Clara Marques, head of the SSV Osaka ICU."

"I'm Miranda Lawson—I'm here to see to Commander Shepard's care."

"Oh yes yes, you spoke to my colleague Dr. Paulsen." Dr. Marques thrust her hand out and gave Miranda a long, noodly handshake.

"Is Dr. Paulsen here as well?" asked Miranda.

"No, no unfortunately he has been called back to another vessel. One of our few remaining senior officers has suffered a medical emergency," Dr. Marques replied. "He should return within the day."

"I see. And how is Commander Shepard?"

Dr. Marques placed her hands in her coat pockets and rocked on the balls of her feet. "To tell the truth...it's no good. We were forced to put her in a medically induced coma for her safety. Let me take you to her."

Dr. Marques led Miranda to a private area in the ward. Miranda's jaw tightened as she rounded the corner. Shepard lay unconscious in the hospital bed, semi-reclined, surrounded by monitors and a ventilator that helped her breathe, her long brown bangs matted to her clammy forehead. Her left leg, set in an immobilizer, was heavily swollen, and covered in deep blue and purple bruising. Her right leg had been amputated from the knee down.

"Shepard..." choked Miranda.

Dr. Marques spoke in a hush. "I'm sorry to say, Commander Shepard has a number of serious injuries, namely crush syndrome. We suspect she had already suffered major injury and bleeding during the battle in London. Her cybernetics allowed her to survive that—they released whatever remaining medigel she had. But you can imagine, the damage from nearly 72 hours of being trapped under a heavy structure..."

"She's got kidney damage then? Heart damage?" assumed Miranda.

"Yes, these are the greatest concerns. And there are some other things also." Dr. Marques brought up an image on one of the screens in the room. "After re-examining her most recent scan I noted some unusual shadows in her biotic nodes."

Miranda squinted at the tiny, egg-shaped sacs in Shepard's limb scans. She stood, muted for a few moments, processing the meaning of the dim aberrations.

"These look severely damaged, Doctor."

"Yes, that is my thought as well," she replied somberly. "I've never seen this before, not all through the system."

"What do you think caused this?"

"I don't know. But whatever the cause, the Commander may find herself without use of her biotics."

Miranda looked at Shepard. She remembered the first time she had seen her warp a Collector, invisibly shredding his insides to pieces with just the thrust of her arm.

"No. Not if I can help it," Miranda proclaimed. "The Commander would be devastated. I won't let it happen."

"We need to replace her implant as well," added the doctor. "But first, and most important, we need to stabilize her condition."

"Yes, of course," Miranda agreed. "How long will you need to keep her in a coma?"

"That's difficult to say. It will all depend on how her organs respond to treatment," said Dr. Marques. "If I'm being honest with you... it is a miracle she is even here. And I have seen every kind of military casualty. Anyone else would have perished in that disaster after what she did, even the strongest of soldiers. Truly, this is a testament to her will and to the work you have done."

"Commander Shepard is an exceptional woman. She has survived worse."

"I don't know how, but thank the Lord she did. The war is over."

"Amen to that, Doctor."


Wrex sat on an empty crate in the hall of Deck 4. He had resorted to replaying some of his best hits, which he often did during stuffy meetings on Tuchanka. Those Thorian creepers were freaky bastards. Nasty green vomit. One shot from the old Claymore though, exploded on the spot. Ah, good days...

"Excuse Mr. Wrex, may I offer you refreshment while you're waiting?" asked the perky administrator.

"Yeah, I'll take some ryncol if you have any," Wrex retorted.

"Um, I'm afraid we don't carry that aboard the Osaka."

"Bah, humans! Nevermind, thanks anyway." Wrex waved her off and went back to reminiscing.

Miranda re-emerged from the ICU, datapad in hand. She tapped it on Wrex's shoulder when he didn't respond to his name.

"Oh, sorry. Got lost thinking about how to wash Batarian brains off my new chestplate," apologized Wrex.

"Ew..."

"Anyway, how's Shepard?" he asked.

"They've put her in a medical coma. She was trapped under heavy slabs for three days, severely dehydrated, and her organs have suffered some major damage. She's had one of her legs amputated below the knee," Miranda summarized.

"Ouch," said Wrex.

"Once they have her organs stabilized, I will be assisting the doctors in rebuilding her leg and her damaged cybernetic components. Her biotics however..."

"What happened?"

"There's a possibility she may not be able to use them ever again," Miranda lamented.

"Well shit, Shepard's gonna be pissed."