Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or any of its characters. They are products of BioWare, EA and certainly not me. This fan fiction is for entertainment purposes; no profit or intrusion of copyright is intended.
Miranda weaved through the crowded streets of the Citadel, dodging pandering vendors and passer-bys on her route to the Dark Star. She purchased some provisions for delivery to the Normandy. Inside the Dark Star, she scanned the dancers, drinkers and clients as she made her way to the bar. Leaning casually against the counter, she ordered an expensive glass of wine. Gripping the neck of the glass, she inhaled and sipped slowly, savoring the strong dry taste.
Her eyes moved constantly though her demeanor suggested calmness. Naturally distrustful, she crossed the bar towards an empty table. She chose a table in the corner of the bar, a bench tucked against the wall at both sides with a small circular table at the center. She sat at the edge of one bench and rested her glass on the table. She positioned herself to ensure perfect visuals of the bar as well as an easy direct route to an exit.
Gripping the neck of the wine glass lightly, she twirled the liquid absently, eyes constantly searching the crowd for her contact. She waited half an hour then stood, returning to the bar. She sipped the last of her wine and rested her elbows on the countertop. She placed her wineglass down as a heavy body bumped into her from behind.
She quickly glanced over her shoulder at the bump as a burly man reached over her shoulder to place down his liquor glass. He swayed slightly and from the hand holding his glass dropped a small one square inch envelope; the envelope landed beside Miranda's hand. The man barked at the bar keeper for a refill and once the glass filled with the glowing purple liquid, he pressed a hand against Miranda's back to push himself off of her and staggered into the crowd.
Miranda slyly slipped the envelope from its place on the table and casually hid it in her belt. She left the bar, making the rest of the crew requested purchases and bartering fair prices before returning to the Normandy.
Miranda returned to the Normandy, unseen as she walked to her office then closed and locked the door behind her. She removed the envelope from her belt and sat at her desk. With careful precision, she opened the envelope and dumped its contents onto her desk. A small computer chip no larger than her smallest finger nail fell from the envelope. No instructions, no details. None were needed.
She stared at the chip a long moment before hesitantly reaching for it then picking it up. She brought the chip close to her face, head tilting slightly to examine it better. Suspicions confirmed, she lowered her hand, staring blankly at the locked door to her chambers as she set the chip back onto her desk. Slowly leaning back in her chair, she rested her elbow on the chair's arm and brushed her fingers over her chin in thought. Her eyes lowered to stare at the computer chip.
A delicate piece of technology Miranda had come into contact with only twice in her times with Cerberus. Based on highly controversial research performed by a small unacknowledged Salarian research team, the chip was initially developed as a possible solution to solve the Krogan population problem. Cerberus modified the useful intelligence after securing its technology through undisclosed sources.
The new chip implanted behind the ear in the soft flesh and like a small parasite to the host, buried itself beneath the skin before its insect-like legs emerged and embedded the chip into the subject. Each leg tip touched specific points of the near nerves allowing access to the mind. Unlike the original indoctrination techniques of the Salarian model, the Cerberus chip stayed dormant within the host until triggered by remote. Once triggered, the remote user controlled subject decision making, motive and drive for a short period of time. The purpose of the chip was not indoctrination but subtle control.
During experimentation with the chip, the host experienced burning pain at the start of the event until mind "sway" – as Cerberus called it – was complete. Once "swayed" the subject obeyed without question or hesitation. After the triggered event, the subject retained minimal memories of the event.
When Shepard lay on the operating table during reconstruction, Miranda wanted to install a chip into his skull as an insurance policy. The Illusive man dismissed every argument with little explanation other than Shepard must return exactly as he was. Infuriated by the results, she pondered implanting the chip without permission. She mulled over the thought for months and even used her personal contacts and expense accounts to procure a chip.
Miranda turned the envelope over in her hand, absently sliding it between fingers. Two years passed, the project continued and she never implanted the chip. She never pinpointed why she opted against the installation other than the flimsy façade of orders or duty. One evening she slipped into the medical bay with the chip while the facility slept. She almost pressed the controlling device to the slowly healing flesh of Commander Shepard. As she held the chip close to the implantation point, she hesitated and looked to the Commander's healing face.
She couldn't place the implant. She waited too long. If she simply implanted the device when he was still a pile of flesh and bone, but she did not. Shepard laid on the table a man at a year and a half into the project. She recognized his features. His skin formed, his hair needed tending and cut every six weeks. He needed shaved. She massaged his muscles to ensure their form and capability. She made the mistake of investing personally in her patient.
The destruction of the Lazarus project and her facilities obliterated any evidence of the chip – a pricey and useful chip though if she stopped to retrieve the implant, the mechs of the station would have killed her. She escaped relatively unscathed and dedicated her efforts to saving humanity, stopping the Collectors. She learned more of the Commander, truly understanding his motives, his thoughts and his strength. Initially she taunted him with the hint at wanting to implant a chip in his head; it wasn't a lie. But as the weeks passed she regretted the consideration of altering his mind for any use. Whether by her approved methods, Cerberus, or his own, Commander Shepard succeeded and focused on the impossible task of defeating the Collectors.
Trust was not a gift Miranda gave freely. Too often people disappointed or worse yet, betrayed. When the Illusive Man assigned her to Shepard's team, she promised herself that Shepard would have to earn her trust. She never thought he would accomplish the task so easily.
Miranda sighed and leaned forward and slipped the chip into the envelope before placing the envelope aside on the desk to access the computer terminals. Navigating the system, she entered the protocol codes for the security system then selected the Tech lab.
"System malfunction." The computer announced.
Miranda frowned, checking the options and various bugs planted within the lab. The entire sector blacked out. Curious, she bypassed the broken nodules switching the circuits. No results. She closed the terminal, stood and grabbed the envelope from the desk. Securing her terminals, she left the office for the elevator.
She entered Mordin's tech lab unannounced, purposefully striding to the flask and test tube covered counter. Mordin peered up from his terminal. "Ah … Lawson." He continued typing at his terminal. "Can I help you?"
She glanced discreetly around the lab before tossing the envelope onto the counter. It slid a few inches before stopping at the center. She crossed her arms, stance spread slightly as she waited. Mordin paused, head turning as he glanced down at the envelope. Eyes darted to Miranda then down to the envelope. "Something for me? Did you get my list for supplies?"
"I did." She answered simply. "They will be delivered to the Normandy within twenty four hours."
"Then what have we here?" Long skeletal fingers reached out towards the envelope, drawing it closer. He opened the envelope and carefully emptied the contents onto the counter. His head cocked, eyes narrowing in examination. He plucked a slender metallic probe from the cylindrical cup beside the test tubes and delicately flipped the chip to examine both sides. His head jerked back. "Where did you get this?"
"I need you to replicate it."
"Hmm …" he leaned back, eyes intense on the chip as he crossed his arms, bringing one hand to absently tap his chin in thought. "It is not entirely familiar. But if … memory serves me right … Salarian technology. Altered. Could be a few things. Tracking … mind control."
"You're right," Miranda affirmed. "About everything. A neural chip based off of Salarian research used for both tracking and mind control. Can you replicate it, but without the mind control?"
"Perhaps, yes. I would have to study it further … but there is much to do."
"I understand. This is the utmost importance. I expect discretion."
"I see." Mordin prodded the chip with the probe. "I will need full access to the files about this chip. What exactly do you want? Still tracking? Still sensors? Still implantation?"
"Yes." Miranda circled the table and pressed her hands into the counter as she leaned against the fixed tabletop. "I need it to be duplicated exactly, even to the same frequency. The only exception is when it is activated to induce the mind control, that feature fails."
"Hmm," Mordin stroked his chin then turned to face Miranda and nodded curtly. "It can be done. But it will take time. It is a … delicate … procedure. If the slightest calculation is wrong or … inaccurate. Fatal consequences."
"That's fine. It has to be perfect, I understand that. The second part of this. Absolute discretion. No one can know. That includes Shepard. I'll need the original chip back when you're finished. Make them an exact match. Feel free to do something minor to differentiate them."
Mordin examined Miranda then paced to the cupboard and back again. "The chip is for Shepard. Makes sense. He has not been … accommodating to Cerberus causes. Hmm, interesting revelation though. To duplicate. Illusive man must have contacted you. Wants the chip for Shepard. Understandable. Could be a liability if not firmly controlled." He tilted his head and hummed. "Hmm. But you do not want to do it. Hence, the duplicate. Cerberus needs to think you implanted the chip … without actually giving over the control to the Illusive man."
Miranda expressed no reaction as she held the Salarian's inquisitive gaze.
"Humans are … interesting species. You are torn between loyalty to Cerberus … and to Shepard. Interesting indeed."
"I understand Cerberus's concern," Miranda defended. "But we brought Shepard back because of his ability to achieve impossible goals. He defeated Saren and Sovereign because of his own will, decision making and strengths. To alter his ability now when we are hunting another powerful foe will only hinder our success."
He paused in thought then nodded his approval. "Very wise. You are correct. I will have the chip to you in a few days. I should have everything I need here. Ah … I almost forgot." He turned to the cupboard, swinging open the doors then dug inside the contents of one of the drawers. He picked out an electronic device and turned it over in his hands, examining it. Returning to Miranda, he handed it to her. "This, I believe … is yours."
Miranda took the device, brow arched in recognition of one of the cameras installed in the tech lab.
"The others I destroyed," Mordin stated with a wave of the hand. "They were standard issue bugs. That one appeared … expensive."
A slow smirk tugged at Miranda's lips. "Thank you."
"I have submitted detailed reports on everything I've studied. I am sure you are aware. I am also sure you are aware of my … distrust for Cerberus. Your organization is not known to being … sympathetic to non-humans."
"Cerberus is merely looking out for human interest. We are not against working with aliens or employing them when necessary. The Systems Alliance is just as skeptical of alien intervention. It is only the council that has legitimized them. The Alliance refused to take the drastic steps when necessary and so Cerberus decided to pursue those interests. Ironic, isn't it? Cerberus is demonized when Council Specters have been known to go to even further extremes in their pursuits."
"Intuitive," Mordin nodded in agreement. "And very true. We all have our … extremes. I was one. I can … respect your cause, Lawson. But that doesn't mean I trust you."
"Commander on deck," EDI stated shipwide. "XO Lawson is relieved."
Miranda slipped the chip back into the envelope. "I have to implant something into Shepard. The Illusive man will be waiting for the chip to come online. I will need the replica as soon as possible. Secrecy is key. From everyone."
"I understand." Mordin replied.
"If you need any supplies, give me the list. I will procure you with anything you need."
"I can have a list to you within a few hours. But I should have everything I need here."
"Thank you," Miranda glanced down at the expensive camera in her hand and then turned to walk through the doors leading towards the armory. Accessing her locker, she checked the hand cannon, testing its weight then eyeing the barrel. In her last firefight, a thermal shot clipped the edge of the barrel, altering the metal. Unsafe for use, she immediately returned it to Jacob for repair.
"Checking up on my work?"
Miranda glanced back over her shoulder at the Armory Officer. "Checking on my gun. Not your work. Just wanted to make sure it was ready."
"It is." Jacob answered as he entered the armory. "I'll have to test it before I know for certain. But everything appears intact. Don't use it until I test it."
"How are the weapon upgrades?" She placed the hand cannon back into the locker.
"As expected. It takes time to implement the upgrades into each weapon. And there are a lot of weapons on this ship."
"The shore squad is large," Miranda agreed. "But we will need every gun when we meet the Collector's. I know you'll have all the weapons at their maximum efficiency."
"I understand the importance, Miranda."
"I knew you would," She glanced down the row of lockers. "Does Shepard keep his gear here as well?"
"Only his weapons in the locker there," Jacob pointed to the large locker at the end of the line. "His armor, he keeps in his quarters. I tried to talk him into leaving it here, so I can make the repairs and keep it at its peak. But he won't hear of it. In fact, he sits on that stool right there and watches me repair it. It's like he doesn't trust me."
"He doesn't trust anyone in Cerberus. It's not just you." She replied with casual control. Pulling out the submachine guns from her locker, she checked the barrels for cleanliness. "I can't really blame him. Before we brought him back, he fought and killed many of our field agents in various cells. I'm surprised the Illusive Man trusted him to work with us at all."
"The Commander just wants to stop the Collectors. He's using whatever means he can. I guess the Alliance just had too much red tape and politicking. Kinda the same reason I quit. Couldn't stand how ineffective it all was. At least in Cerberus, things get done. I'll be honest; sometimes I don't like how they get done. But at least they get done."
"I would have to agree. Sometimes harsh and extreme measures must be taken in order to achieve the goal. Within reason. The Illusive Man intervenes when he knows something too extreme is happening. Like what we did with the Rachni. We stopped that research immediately when we realized how intelligent the creatures were."
Jacob nodded solemnly before inquiring. "Wonder how far he'll let us go?"
Miranda placed the guns back into the locker then closed it, the metal clicking shut. "It's not a question of how far he'll let us go but how far we are willing to go. I'll talk to you later, Jacob." She left the armory for the elevator and waved her hand over the sensor to signal the shuttle.
Within seconds, the door opened and the Commander stepped out, nearly knocking into Miranda.
Miranda reached up with a hand to touch his chest, stopping him. "Oh … pardon me, Commander," she stepped around him into the elevator then turned to face him. "Is everything alright? I wasn't expecting you back so soon."
"Just fine," He answered, twisting at the waist to watch her. "Had to drop something off. I'm heading out again. I'll be back later."
"I've placed the necessary crew's orders. They will be delivered within the day."
"Excellent. Do you need anything while I'm out?"
She shook her head and tapped the elevator console. "Nothing I can't get later. I'll get it tomorrow."
Shepard nodded and strode away from the elevator with confident steps. The elevator closed and descended to the crew quarters. Exiting the elevator, Miranda crossed the quarters to her office.
EDI announced. "Commander Shepard has exited the Normandy. XO Lawson has the deck."
Miranda waved her hand over the sensor for her office and stepped inside. She paused, brow furrowed as she curiously looked at the items on her bed past her console. She had not left anything out. Slowly approaching the bed, she stopped at the foot.
A new white Cerberus catsuit - similar to the one ruined back on Illium - lay folded and pressed at the edge of the bed. Propped against the outfit rested an expensive and rare bottle of Asari wine.