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.

Shepard placed his gauntlets on the desk in his cabin then adjusted the straps holding his greaves to his thighs. Tugging on the collar of his breast plate, he turned and sat in the comfortable swiveling chair. He spun to face the console for his terminal. Tapping a few fingers, he accessed the security cameras. Leaning back in his chair, he tapped a single finger on one point of the console, scrolling through the various displays.

Samara sat cross legged on the floor of her observation deck, a blue and white aura pulsing around her form. Her wrists rested upon her knees, fingers gently touching, pinched in relaxed meditation.

A few crew members gathered in the mess hall, sitting around the table in comfortable camaraderie. Quiet initially, their eyes focused to a point off camera. Shepard tapped the button; Miranda stood behind the counter, pouring a cup of steaming coffee into her stainless steel mug. She ignored the stares of the crew and simply continued her mundane task. Grabbing a dried wheat bar from the serving counter, she retreated to her office.

Tension in the room alleviated at her departure. One male tech stood and laughed, "Thought she'd never leave." He stepped over the bench to sit at the table. "You know, I'm starting to think we can actually do this."

The electronics engineer at the table shook his head. "Not me. I know we all signed on for this, but I didn't do it thinking we were coming back alive."

"Are you kidding?" The tech laughed. "Have you seen what the commander can do? And look at all the help we've got. We're gonna be lucky if we even get to see the collectors."

"Hope you're right."

Shepard cycled through additional security channels. Garrus fiddled with the settings of the Normandy's main weapon system. Exhaling a frustrated sigh, he scratched the chafing skin on the back of his neck. Abandoning the console, he stalked up the three metallic stairs and sat at the work bench to modify his assault rifle.

Jack lounged on the cot in the bowels of the engine room, one foot planted heavily on the edge of the bed for balance as she leaned against the cool metal wall of the ship. She tossed a handball to the wall opposite her cot; the ball bounced off the wall then off the center point of the floor before flying back to Jack's awaiting hand. She caught the ball with ease and threw it again, soothed by the rhythmic thumping.

Upstairs in the engineering bay, Tali configured the core of the engine, pausing on occasion when the pulsing ball's rhythm pierced her focused concentration. When the thumping ceased, she sighed in relief. "I thought that bosh'tet would never stop."

The rhythm started again. "You shouldn't have said anything," Engineer Daniels commented, exasperated. "She probably heard you."

"She'll keep doin' it now until you say somethin'," Donnelly added.

"She'll be lucky if all I do is 'say something'," Tali threatened.

Inside the executive officer's quarters, Miranda carefully sipped the hot coffee from the metal insulated mug. She placed the mug on her desk before addressing the hologram of the Illusive Man. "We will be in range within the hour."

"Excellent," the Illusive man hissed, exhaling a swirling pillar of smoke. "I want you on the shore party for this mission. There is sensitive and important information you are to retrieve. The researchers were close to discovering key clues about how the Reaper indoctrination works. You must bring that information back; it cannot be lost."

"Shepard has already chosen his shore team," Miranda answered, calmly. "Garrus and the quarian, Tali, are going with him. I will do what I can to remotely download any information."

The Illusive Man inhaled a long and heavy drag from the stumped cigarette hanging loosely from his fingers. "Interesting but not surprising. Let me be clear. You will accompany Shepard onto the Reaper. You will download all research. You will immediately forward everything to me directly. Are we understood?"

With the slightest tension, she inclined her head in acknowledgment. "Sir."

The Illusive man snuffed out his cigarette, twisting the end to extinguish it. "Without that information, we cannot combat the Reaper indoctrination effect. And if you don't come back from the Omega 4 relay, it may be humanity's only chance against an army of Reapers. I'm sure you now see things with renewed clarity, Miranda. I expect to hear from you within twenty four hours." The feed disconnected.

Miranda stared at the vacated space of the hologram display as she absently brushed the backs of her fingers over her lower lip in thought. Shepard leaned back in his chair and turned off the display for the security feeds. What exactly was happening on that derelict Reaper and what was the ulterior motive of the Illusive man?

Over the course of his career, Shepard faced a colorful array of political power hungry moguls who desired nothing more than their own advancement. The same ambition dwelled in many fields: military, business, religions even criminal. He didn't begrudge the Illusive Man the desire for power, for control and recognition. Shepard gladly accepted the role of Spectre and relished in the freedom his post and influence brandished. Mistakenly, he believed avenues and choices would become available that were previously closed and off limits.

There was always someone pulling the strings. For Shepard, the list started with his parents and continued to the Alliance Military, culminating in the alien council. Currently, he answered to the Illusive Man – whether he liked it or not. So who pulled the Illusive Man's strings?

Investors, likely. The money came from somewhere and those selective and anonymous sponsors expected results, results Cerberus easily supplied since its installation years ago. Though the Illusive man's investors pulled strings and held weight, finance was not his motivation. Perhaps, the Illusive man genuinely believed in the protected advancement of human interests in the galaxy. Or the somewhat admirable position was merely a front for a more sinister drive – a drive for power.

Where did Miranda fit into the scheme? Was she an idealist, pursuing human galactic interests or was she dedicated to a more dictatorial cause, embracing the shady ambitions of her boss? Miranda's intricate workings eluded Shepard and he sometimes questioned his desire to trust her. Originally, he considered his blind trust a physical reaction to her sensuality but as time passed, that doubt faded. Physical beauty hid twisted intentions for only a short time.

Tightening the leg straps of his greaves, Shepard shifted his weight then lifted his knees to his chest, testing his mobility. Tapping the communications device on the console of his computer station, he directed his call. "Garrus, you almost ready?"

"Just have a few more calibrations," Garrus responded. "Why, what do you have in mind?"

"A bit of easy fun," Shepard replied with a small grin. "You know, boarding a derelict Reaper to fetch a piece and bring it back onto the Normandy."

"Oh, so your standard mission."

Shepard laughed. "Yeah, you can say that."

"I'll be in the hangar in fifteen minutes. After I finish these calibrations."

In the communications room of the command center, Miranda swiped her fingers across the holographic keyboard to remove the flickering visual of the Normandy and replaced it with the known schematics of the derelict reaper. Jacob pressed both palms onto the waist-level floating counter surrounding the three-dimensional diagram. "You're serious, aren't you?" he commented. "We've got to go on there to retrieve the records? There has got to be a way to get them remotely."

"That can't be guaranteed," Miranda replied. "We need the intel. If the scientists were indoctrinated by a derelict reaper, perhaps we can find the evidence and use it to counter similar situations in the future. This war doesn't end when the Collectors are defeated. The collectors are only the beginning."

"Damn, I know that." Jacob said with a slight shake of the head. After a lengthy pause of deliberation, he nodded. "You and me, huh?"

"The fewer, the better," Miranda said and tapped three keys of the keyboard before touching a fourth. "There were 150 scientists on board that vessel and if they are all indoctrinated …" she trailed off then glanced towards Jacob, meeting his eyes. "There's no telling what we will have to face on that ship. And Shepard makes a lot of noise."

"So you're thinking they'll all go after him."

"Yes. He can't be somewhere for five minutes before something explodes. I'm counting on that to draw them away from where we are going." Another two taps of the buttons and Miranda stepped back from the console, watching as a green directional line appeared on the diagram. On the outer exterior of the vessel, the green formed a pulsing sphere. "That is the access point, likely our best bet to get our information and to put Shepard closest to the core. According to the Illusive Man, the IFF is there. Shepard will be following the green path into the ship or at least somewhere along that line." She touched a single button; a yellow directional line appeared. "That is where we will go."

Jacob crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back. "It takes us the opposite direction. Not far though. What is that, about five hundred meters?"

"If that," Miranda responded. "That path takes us to the main security point. There is a mainframe or master server there and hopefully is still intact. We can extract any files – vids, journals, messages, anything."

"And what if there's nothing there?"

"Then we get the hell off."

After her reply, Jacob paused, mentally scanning the image. His military training to the forefront, he judged the odds, the chances of survival. Slim – as usual. "Alright, I'm on board. But mostly cuz I know you'd go anyway even if I said 'Hell No'."

The corner of her lip lifted, hinting at a grin. "You know me all too well, Jacob."

"Yeah, well, let's just say I'm used to it by now. So when do we dock?"

"In the next ten minutes. Get what you need and meet me in the shuttle bay." She answered and waited for Jacob to leave. She activated her omni-tool, waving the instrument over the panel of the countertop and downloaded the full map and schematics of the derelict ship. With two clicks and a swipe, the diagram cleared from the main terminal.

"Shepard, we need to talk."

Commander Shepard turned from his place beside the prepped shuttle to spot his executive officer striding confidently into the bay. Dressed for combat in a dark leather skin tight suit, she touched her ear, just at the hairline to activate an orange tinted visor. The holographic visor extended from ear to ear over her eyes. Shepard addressed the two squad mates beside him – both armed and ready for battle. "Meet me on the shuttle."

Garrus nodded and stepped up into the shuttle. Tali hesitated a moment to stare at Miranda before following Garrus, commenting. "I'll give her points for persistence."

Shepard left his squad mates to approach Miranda. "What are you doing? I asked you to stay on the bridge."

Miranda remained silent until she stood before him – proud and confident, as always. "I need to get onto that Reaper."

He blocked her path, holding her intense gaze. "For what?"

"Intel."

His brow lifted in surprise at her honesty, though the act invisible to her from behind the heavily tinted front plate of his helmet. He played ignorant. "Intel?"

"It was a Cerberus vessel," she continued quietly. "If the 150 scientists on board were indoctrinated, we need to know how and how long it took. It could be vital to our war effort going forward. Perhaps we can even find a way to counteract the effects."

"I can gather that intel on the way." He offered.

She shook her head. "You can't. The security terminals are in the opposite direction of where you will be going. The least amount of time on that ship is the best and you know it. Split up, I can get the intel and you can recover the IFF. Jacob is coming with me; we intend to infiltrate." When he remained quiet, she added. "You cannot stop me."

"Oh, I can stop you," he answered.

"But you won't," she countered confidently. "Because you know I'm right."

After twenty unnerving seconds, Shepard muttered a curse. "God damn it. Alright. Stay in radio contact at all times. And take someone else. Kasumi. She moves light and fast and is almost always invisible."

"Fine," Miranda said then activated her communication unit. "EDI, could you ask Kasumi to meet me in the shuttle bay, ready to board the Reaper ship?"

"Message delivered," EDI replied. "Her response was, 'You bet your sweet ass.' Bet on what? There was no offer of a wager and I do not have a corporal form."

"It's a phrase, EDI," Shepard said. "It basically means, Yes. It's not literal."

"I see," EDI answered. "I will add the phrase to my catalog. Thank you, Commander."

Shepard watched the entry way to the shuttle bay. "And under one more condition. Any information you discover is also forwarded to the Alliance."

"What?" Miranda frowned, taken aback by the request. "Whatever for? Cerberus is not in the business of sharing our information with Alliance brass."

"Because they're going to be fighting Reapers too. And if humanity is going to survive, we are all on a need-to-know." At her silence, he continued. "Look, I'm not telling you to broadcast it on the Alliance News Network. Just forward it to Anderson. You can switch it through however many back-hacked channels you want or whatever it is you have to do so it cannot be traced. But that is my condition. When you come back, you will send a copy to Anderson or Admiral Hackett. I don't care which."

Internal debate raging, Miranda offered a silent nod to his request. Shepard acknowledged her response with a nod as well then looked up as Jacob and Kasumi entered the bay. "That's it?" Miranda questioned. "You don't need proof? You don't want to do it yourself?"

"No." Shepard answered calmly then met her gaze. "Because I trust you. You'll do the right thing." He turned from her and entered the shuttle.

As the shuttle carefully docked to the derelict reaper, Miranda adjusted the thermal clip band around her waist. She grabbed another two clips from the on-board weapons locker and secured them to the bands at the tops of her thigh-high boots – flats this time for speed and silence. "I just need about a five minute head start."

Shepard braced his left forearm against the extended metallic surfacing of the side, feet staggered for balance. "I don't like it, Miranda."

She arched a perfectly plucked brow. "And you think I do? Believe me, the last place I want to be is on board this ship."

"Think I'd rather be on that collector ship again, personally," Jacob added with muffled admission.

"I'm sure that if any of us had a choice, a real choice, we would not choose this place right now." Miranda responded. Focused and slightly withdrawn, she clicked the pistol into the holster at her waist and gripped the vertical handlebar at the entrance hatch, awaiting clearance to exit.

Shepard watched her with trepidation then addressed Jacob and Kasumi. "Move fast and light. Get what you need and get back. Hold the shuttle entrance for us. If it gets too hot, too dangerous, pull back. Get the hell out of here."

"Commander," Jacob said.

"I don't want any arguments," Shepard interrupted before Jacob finished his thought. "That's an order."

"Sir," Jacob saluted, face severely stoic and serious. He lowered the visor of his helmet. There was no need for oxygen tanks as the life support inside the Reaper was still active.

"Is that understood?" Shepard addressed Kasumi then looked over his shoulder at Miranda.

"Understood, Commander." The XO replied, professionally.

The shuttle rocked as docking completed. At the entrance way, Shepard held the door closed, eyes intensely focused on Miranda. "Five minutes."

Pistol drawn, Miranda moved quickly and carefully down the long corridor leading from the shuttle into the station. Feet light, eyes focused ahead, she stepped over coiled piping. Kasumi – invisible as usual – scouted ahead and flickered into sight at the door twenty meters in front. Jacob cocked his shotgun, cautious. None spoke. Kasumi opened the door within twenty seconds and disappeared again as the three slipped inside.

Discolored brown blood smeared the walls inside the door and a rotted disfigured corpse lay against the opposite wall, its limbs contorted and twisted, a mouth-like feature open in silent agony. Miranda swallowed, controlled and turned her gaze to the left, away from the sight and into the elongated room.

"That ain't right," Jacob whispered the thought that no other would speak; the team moved forward. He explored the small laboratory. Miranda peered into a microscope as Kasumi activated a video terminal. At the disembodied voice, Miranda turned from the microscope to watch the short video journal.

"The airlock has been installed at the far end of the holed section. We have begun pressurizing for shirtsleeves work." The well-dressed individual began with voice low and steady but quiet. "The crew is edgy. I reassure them it is mere nerves. A superstitious reaction to what this hulk represents … the corpse of a vast ancient life form. Privately, I can't deny the atmosphere. The angles of the walls seem to press down on you." The man leaned closer to whisper to the video recording. "I find myself clenching my teeth." The video ended.

"Is there a date on it?" Miranda asked.

Kasumi nodded. "Yes, a date of saved recording. It doesn't appear he states it. That is all that is here though. The terminal has been badly damaged."

"Get what you can," Miranda stated.

Jacob shook his head. "He's right. Something ain't right here. I can feel it. On the back of the neck, ya know?"

"I agree," Miranda said and continued down the corridor where another work log activated.

A different individual spoke. "We finished cataloging specimens A203 to B016. No evidence of active nano technology noted. Dr. Chandana believes they would have decayed over the last 37 million years. There's not enough data to support his claim. He asserts that the truth is "patently obvious". I am … concerned. Chandana has been staring at the samples for hours. He says he's "listening" to them." The feed died.

"Listening to them," Jacob repeated. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know," Miranda replied. "Kasumi get that as well, anything you can from that terminal." As Kasumi extracted the data, Miranda pulled up the schematics of the ship on her omnitool. "This isn't the right door. Damn it, these schematics are wrong." She stepped away from the two crewmates, following the wall and comparing it with the location transmitter of her omni-tool within the reaper schematics. She stopped near the microscopes and faced the wall. "Through there. The schematics claim there is a path here but I don't …" she trailed off and looked upwards, her eyes fell on the ventilation shaft fifteen feet off the ground.

"Oh hell no. Ducts again?" Jacob commented.

"Could be worse," Kasumi offered. "At least it looks spacious. There could be rats. That would be worse. Cramped and rats"

"Indoctrinated rats," Jacob said. "That would be worse."

"We have to get up," Miranda stated, drawing attention back to the task. "Kasumi, if we get you on top of that bracing there can you get the grate off?"

"Of course," Kasumi strode towards the counter hip-high along the wall. "You don't even have to ask." She stepped up onto the counter and motioned Jacob towards her with a single finger. "Let's put those muscles to good work."

Jacob approached her, holstering his shotgun at the small of his back as he intertwined his fingers, cupping his hands together. When Kasumi placed a foot into the cup, he lifted with ease, extending his arms upward. The thief sprung from his hand with ultimate grace and pulled herself up onto the high crossbeam. Using the tools from her utility belt, Kasumi carefully removed the first bolt at the top left corner.

Shepard entered as Kasumi worked on the third bolt. Miranda stood near the counter, ready. Kasumi handed down the grate as Shepard approached. "I'm going to scout ahead," Kasumi said and activated her cloak, disappearing into the duct before either Miranda or Jacob could utter a response.

"Hey," Shepard called and lowered his shotgun as he approached. "What happened? I thought you said you were just going the opposite way?"

"We are," Miranda answered and holstered her pistol. "The schematics were wrong, we have to go through the vents." She touched Jacob's shoulder and he bent at the knees, cupping his hands again to give the Operative a lift. "It'll be fine, Shepard," she said confidently. "We won't leave the vents unless we can easily get back into them. I want this intel, but it's not worth my life." She launched off of Jacob's hands and gripped the support beam of the room then swung herself level with the duct. She glanced down at Shepard and Jacob then reached down. "Do you need a hand?"

"Nah, I'll have the Commander help me up." Jacob looked to Shepard. "Ya mind, sir?"

"Not at all," Shepard replied and watched as Miranda stretched across the two foot gap and disappeared into the duct. He addressed Jacob quietly. "Don't let her risk too much for this. I need you all back on the Normandy if we are going to get through this whole thing alive."

"Yes, sir," Jacob answered with a curt nod. "I won't let you down. And Miranda, don't underestimate her."

"I don't," Shepard cupped his hands and bent his knees, bracing for Jacob's weight. "Just humor me, alright?" When Jacob planted his foot into the Commander's hands, Shepard stood from his squat pushing upwards with his hands as Jacob sprung from the momentum and gripped the crossbeam. Jacob leapt from the beam and dove into the grate with a loud metallic crash.

Inside, Miranda crawled on hands and knees through the duct, her omni-tool active as she navigated the tunnels towards the crew quarters. The tunnels darkened and the ship grew silent except for the movement of the three. During sporadic occasions, a metallic creaking resounded, the ship settling then shifting within the gravity of the planet.

The ship lurched and Miranda lost her balance, crashing into the side of the duct and jarring her shoulder. The omni-tool flickered and disconnected the feed. Jacob's shotgun slipped from his grip, sliding ten feet ahead and spinning to a stop by Miranda's foot. The Operative activated her communication device. "Shepard, what the hell was that? Did you feel it?"

Shepard's voice crackled in response. "Seems like an issue with the ship's mass effect field. I'm going to have to shut it down."

"What? Why?" Alarmed, she shook out her right arm and rolled her shoulder. She peered back over her shoulder at Jacob. Jacob crawled towards her and picked up his shotgun, securing it to the small of his back again.

"We won't be able to leave if I don't." Shepard answered. "But once it's off, the ship will start to fall into the planet. So get back to our extraction point ASAP and hold it, alright?"

"Understood, Commander," she answered then after sure that Jacob was uninjured, continued forward. "Why can't it ever be simple," she muttered to herself.

"I heard that," Shepard said, amused.

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Of course you did. Just be careful."

"You too," He replied and the communications silenced.

"I see an exit ahead," Kasumi said through the communications device. "Our exit is low, ground level. Looks like a hallway. Can't see much through the grating. I'm going out for a look."

"Wait," Miranda whispered. "We don't know if that's the right grate."

"Right, which is why I'm going to look." Kasumi said then playfully reprimanded. "Keep up, Miranda."

Miranda shook her head, moving quicker through the ducts to catch up with Kasumi. Jacob matched her pace and every so often, glanced behind him to ensure nothing followed them through the tunnel. They emerged into a long corridor, narrow with doors on either side, placed approximately every thirty feet.

"Looks like a dormitory or something," Jacob said softly and drew his shotgun. "How long did it take them to build this into a reaper?"

"It had to take months," Miranda answered. "Who knows how long this project has been going on … and with how many different cells."

"You don't think it could have been that long, do you?"

Miranda shrugged. "I was so busy with the Lazarus project, I was out of touch with the rumors within Cerberus. I knew of some cells, but certainly not all. Rumors, of course. This is the first I've heard of this one."

The ship creaked, metal shifting then silence. Eerie, haunting and empty, the ship floated in orbit. Dead. Stagnant and still air surrounded her, pressing upon the lungs with a stale weight. The walls and floors clean, showing no signs of struggle or violence. Every door closed within sight. Miranda turned left and walked; her footfall was the only sound. She waved her hand over the nearest door … locked.

Jacob tried the door opposite … locked. "I'd bet the rest are locked too."

"And … you would be right," Kasumi appeared beside Jacob and motioned down the hallway. "I tried at least ten of them. All locked. Whatever happened on this ship didn't happen here. It's kind of like a mystery." She paused then added. "Not one I necessarily want to solve. But a mystery, nonetheless."

Miranda tapped her fingers along her omni-tool to examine the layout of the facility again. "We need to keep going down the hallway. At the end is a Tee and we need to take a left." Without waiting for a response, she stepped down the hallway.

At the end of the elongated corridor, light flickered, flashing on then off then on again. Kasumi slowed her pace. "Ok … creepy."

Miranda paused, Jacob beside her. She drew the sidearm from its holster on her hip and checked the magazine. With a silent nod, she cued Jacob to take the point. Steady and careful, the trio progressed and stepped into the darkened corridor. Jacob sniffed. "It smells like death here." He stopped at the intersection of two corridors, peering one way then the next. When clear, he focused on a darkened puddle on the floor. No tracks led to or from the puddle. Frowning, he knelt down and touched the liquid. Bringing his fingers to his nose, he sniffed. "Blood. But from where?"

Miranda examined the immediate area. Kasumi looked up. "Uhm … that's interesting."

Jacob and Miranda looked up as well. From the grating along the ceiling tiles, a circular red stain marred the metallic design. At the center, more congealed black and red liquid, a droplet hanging and dangling then it fell to the ground, dropping into the puddle on the floor. Jacob, palm flat, reached towards Miranda and pushed her back from the puddle. His eyes scanned the grating and he pointed to a section about three feet from the bloody one. Miranda nodded and as Jacob kept his eyes on the grating, Miranda and Kasumi lifted a crate and moved it beneath the grating Jacob indicated.

Jacob climbed onto the crate and pressed the barrel of his shotgun into the grating. He exhaled a breath, dispelling any nerves and took the offered small flashlight from Kasumi's hand. Flicking the light on, he pressed harder with the barrel of the gun. As the pressure increased, the grate slowly lifted. He peered into the darkened ceiling area and shone the light. A four foot high tunnel with grating on top and bottom extended ahead of him, his light only illuminating the closest ten to fifteen feet before the light scattered too far, making the distance appear foggy.

Another shaky breath slipped passed his lips as he scanned the area and finally stilled the light on a heaping pile of flesh about five feet from his position. Mangled brown tissue clumped, nearly covering the grating – nothing distinguishable as to its origin. He swallowed down the nausea and bile rising to his throat but refused to look away, unwilling to let down his guard.

"What is it?" Miranda prompted.

Her voice broke the sickening revere and Jacob answered. "It's a pile of flesh … I don't know. It might be a person. What's left of him."

"How did it get there?" The Operative asked and peered back over her shoulder down the darkened corridor, the same direction as Jacob simply at floor-level.

"It must have been dragged," Kasumi said. "Probably from elsewhere in the ship. We saw nothing here that looks like something or someone was pulled up nearby."

Miranda pressed her fingers to her brow. "And here we were crawling through these ducts. Who knows what else is in those?"

"I don't really want to think about it," Jacob said and lowered the grate back into place then jumped down. "Come on. Let's get what we need and get out of here."

Without comment, the trio continued down the darkened corridor. The hull creaked again, rhythmic in its shifting in space though the sounds separated long enough to surprise with each shift. Pace slowed as footsteps quieted. A deafening bang resounded; the three jumped. Silence. Kasumi camouflaged. Miranda moved first, her pace quick down the corridor. At the doorway at the end of the hall, surrounded in darkness except for the light green lighting of the door panel, Miranda quickly entered her personal code. The door refused to open. "Hack it," she ordered and without comment, Kasumi obeyed.

Jacob and Miranda stood guard, guns aimed down the hallway down which they came. Miranda squinted and pointed. "Look." Near an emergency lighting fixture, the ceiling grating shifted, creaked then suddenly crashed to the ground. Miranda braced a foot behind her. "Kasumi, work faster."

"I'm working as fast as I can," Kasumi answered. "Cerberus protocols are difficult to hack. I need … another minute, minute thirty at most."

"We may not have that," Miranda whispered and pressed against the wall, hiding in the shadows. Jacob did the same. Neither shot but instead waited both knowing that drawing attention to themselves would only bring more gunfire, more enemies and a higher likelihood of death. From the grate, a limp husk covered in blood and torn apart at the stomach, missing a leg fell out of the opening. The figure landed sickeningly on the floor with a 'plop', remaining limbs flailed in multiple directions, bones broken and piercing the skin on the right side.

Miranda squeezed the handle of her pistol, willing her heart to slow and her breath to remain calm and rhythmic. Another figure emerged from the grate, a severely disfigured humanoid. A large flesh hump protruded from the back as the shoulders extended upwards and over the top of its head. It appeared nude, the flesh bulbous with sores, seeping blood and puss. Its small yellow eyes bulged and its jaw hung dislocated from the left side, gaping open.

The creature grabbed the husk's ankle and lumbered down the hallway opposite the trio. Blood trailed the corpse. Another creature fell from the ceiling and screeched. As it stumbled to its feet, the first turned and dropped the corpse. It spread its arms and crouched forward, defensively.

Kasumi opened the door and slipped inside, Miranda and Jacob following, walking backwards so not to turn their backs on the creatures. The door closed.

Within the belly of the ship, a long catwalk extended perpendicular to the walk upon which they stood. The perpendicular grating walk ended far outside the line of sight to the left and the right. The room was a hollow cavern-like area with a ceiling over 100 feet high. Miranda proceeded down the small walkway to the main catwalk extending the length of the ship. She paused at the railing and gazed into the belly of the ship, dimly lit with emergency lighting and intricate blue bulbs. The blue bulbs were attached to a forest of dragon teeth. The spikes extended high and upon each, a human body was impaled.

"There's gotta be at least forty of them." Jacob whispered, awed and disgusted.

In well-masked horrified silence, Miranda forced her gaze away from the gruesome sight. She followed the path deeper into the ship and they finally arrived at the security terminal. A corpse lay on the floor, torn and shredded. Pieces of skin and flesh were scattered across the terminal keys. Swallowing down the sickening bile rising to her throat, Miranda lifted her chin and brushed away the chunks of flesh to clear the keys. A thumb, a piece of skull, an unidentifiable bit of organ. The pungent odor of rancid and rotting meat permeating the air and embedded in the nose; one even tasted the stench. Breaking the silence, Jacob gagged but kept his stomach contents down and spun on his heels to step out of the room. He exhaled slowly, his back to room as he stood guard in the hallway. Miranda steeled her will and her focus. "Kasumi, check the other terminals in the room."

"Excellent, I'll be starting with the one over there without the giblets, thank you." Kasumi replied and though her tone held the usual teasing tone, it seemed forced.

"Just get everything as fast as possible. We're leaving in five minutes."

Once the data was gathered, Miranda stepped out of the security room with Kasumi behind her. The Cerberus operative looked down at her gloved hands. Though the fabric black, blood and bits covered the finger tips and splattered over the palms. The white strips around the knuckles and wrist were stained reddish brown. Rust. Ruined.

"Come on," she said, coolly, still managing a semblance of control despite the horrid situation. She had a reputation to maintain, leader of this squad and second-in-command to the mission. Show no weakness, show only strength. Shepard never wavered. He stood fast. He was strong in the face of impossible odds and overwhelming strain.

"Miranda," Shepard called through their communications device. "Get back to the evac. We're making our final push in the next few minutes. We'll need to extract ASAP."

"On our way, Shepard," Miranda answered then glanced over her shoulder at Jacob and Kasumi. "Let's get out of here."

"No need for a second request here." Kasumi activated her camouflage and retraced her steps back towards the dimly lit corridor.

The corridor, previously abandoned, now filled with various flesh-like creatures, some human-like and others severely deformed. Kasumi froze upon entry, eyes quickly scanning the corridor and she slipped carefully behind the nearest cover, a computerized console. Miranda and Jacob crouch low, no cover in sight. The flesh creatures stood still, frozen in place and unmoving. They swayed in a strange rhythmic back then forth motion, as if poised and waiting for some stimulus. None moved, none twitched, but simply swayed.

Miranda scanned the scene before her and eased onto her knees, slipping forward towards Kasumi, knowing her bootstep could give them away. Kasumi looked to the walls and then pointed upward at the ceiling grating which covered the full expanse of the hallway. Miranda looked up then shrugged, a question in her expression. How could they get up into the ceiling grating? It was too high off the ground and there was nothing they could use to climb.

Kasumi pointed to herself then towards the creatures. She displayed two sticky grenades on her belt to Miranda then acted as if throwing them. She pointed to Miranda and Jacob and used her fingers to mime the act of running. Kasumi pointed down the corridor then to the right with her thumb.

Miranda hesitated to respond but finally nodded her agreement. She slowly drew the pistol at her waist, gripped the hilt and watched the enemies at the end of the hallway. Kasumi activated her cloaking device and walked casually towards the gathered Cannibals and Husks. Creeping slowly but steadily, she bent and twisted her way through the mob. Standing behind a hulking Scion, Kasumi paused and slowly took one grenade from her belt.

At her back, two husks swayed, a haunting gasping sound escaping as if with a breath. The Scion, however, stood still, hunched over with its large flesh-filled sack pulsing like a heartbeat. Its skeleton severely disfigured and its arms hung low as if dislocated. The head jutted out at a perpendicular angle to the spine, its mouth agape. Kasumi carefully pressed the grenade to the fleshy pouch on the Scions back and quickly slipped away and further down the corridor.

Miranda lifted slightly, her stance poised to launch and run the moment the grenade exploded. Jacob slowly took the shotgun from his back and carefully placed an empty clip into the chamber, ready to take any heat from the weapon's discharge. She willed her breath to steady, her heart to slow as she counted, waiting for the explosion.

The grenade exploded bursting the flesh sack on the back of the scion and tearing apart the husks nearby. The scion shrieked though the blast didn't kill it. Cannibals rushed the husks and fell to their knees to feed. Those that could not reach the husks turned on the scion, tearing at weeping flesh sack, ripping out parts to eat. Miranda burst from her cover and raced towards the creatures, Jacob on her heels. She charged her omni-tool, readying a powerful overcharge shock should the cannibals turn to attack them. Miranda passed them and Jacob ducked under the flailing Scion arm. The Scion's weapon discharged as a Cannibal tore it from the Scion's arm, detaching the weapon.

Miranda stopped at the duct entrance, panting as she aimed back down the corridor. Five cannibals followed them. "Go," she commanded Jacob to go first through the duct and she fired once, then twice, then a third time. One cannibal jerked with each shot before its skull burst with the third shot and the creature crumbled to the ground. She discharged the clip, reloaded the gun then fired an overcharge shock at the four remaining. Three of them stilled, jerking with electrical shock at the attack; the fourth never slowed. She dove into the duct after Jacob and moved quickly through the maze.

The growling strangled sound of the cannibal followed her into the duct. Miranda kept pace, Jacob well ahead of her. He stopped and looked back then called her name. She heard the cannibal moving closer as it moved quicker through the duct than she could. When the creature grabbed her ankle, she didn't panic but instead dropped to her elbows and kicked back with her free foot. She felt the connection, her foot sinking into the rotted flesh with a sickening suction-like sensation. The cannibal screamed but didn't release her.

Miranda held back her alarm and fear as the cannibal pulled her back towards it. She tightened her hold on the pistol; she turned to face the cannibal, lifting her gun to fire. The cannibal's hand abandoned her ankle with the pull and crawled over her, pinning the hand with her pistol to the duct. Panic seized Miranda and her biotics flared around her.

A gun fired feet from her and the cannibal's head and shoulders burst, covering her in rotted flesh and blood. Miranda closed her eyes and spit to her right. She didn't fight the hand that grabbed under her shoulder and pulled her out from under the dead cannibal. Jacob steadied her and looked at her face, inspecting her for wounds. "Did it bite you? Are you alright?"

"Let's go," she said, showing no outward reaction to what just happened. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Bits of flesh, bone and blood covered her face and the front of her chest, shoulders and arms. It coated her hair. She spit again, wiped her mouth and glared back down the corridor where the four other cannibals finally entered after fighting off the effects of her overcharge shock.

"You first." Jacob said. "I'll keep them back."

"No, I've got this." Miranda glared at the cannibals.

Jacob grabbed her arm and shook his head. "You're more important than me. And don't try to tell me anything different. I'll be right behind you."

She pointed in his face. "You better be." Without another word, she quickened down the duct. She reloaded her pistol and kept her focus forward even when she heard Jacob fire his weapon. At the end, Miranda peered down the long drop to the floor where they first entered the duct system. Kasumi was pinned behind some boxes, firing at the doorway where the Normandy docked. Miranda's biotics flared and she leapt out of the duct, her biotics slowing her fall – graceful. She landed with ease and took cover beside Kasumi.

"'Bout time you got here," Kasumi cracked and eyed the operative up then down. "What happened to you?"

"Cannibal." Miranda peered over the canister acting as her cover and counted the enemies ahead. Seven.

"Huh. Hate to see what he looks like," she lifted over the canister and fired three shots, taking down a Cannibal. She took cover again.

"Jacob is right behind me. I'll keep these off of you. Can you rig that duct to explode when he's out. We're being followed," Miranda ordered and took the submachine gun from her holster. She laid down a stream of fire, forcing the cannibals to take cover and the single scion to hold its place. It didn't move but absorbed the fire, shuddering with the impact.

"Can do," Kasumi activated her cloaking ability and began climbing towards the duct entrance.

Miranda fired another overcharge shock at the scion. The charge bounced to two other cannibals. As the cannibals shuddered with the electrocuting attack, Miranda aimed for their heads with her heavy pistol; she fired twice. The cannibals dropped.

"Commander, you have five minutes to get out of there!" Joker announced over the communications.

"With the Reaper ship's core deactivated," EDI explained, "it is no longer able to resist the gravitational pull of the planet around which it orbits."

"Alright," Shepard answered. "Miranda, are you at the extraction point?"

She peered up at the duct, lips parted as she breathed. The blood had dried on her, cracked and tight on her skin. She shook her head then reached up to brush the hair out of her eyes. "We'll be ready. Just get back here."

"On our way," Shepard said. "We'll need you to hack through the door we exited. The door had jammed after we entered."

"Understood." She said and glanced over the crate at the remaining enemies then sat down, eyes on the door she needed to hack. There was little cover, a desk and maybe a small alcove. But whoever cracked the door code would be in the open. "EDI, I need a countdown alert every fifteen seconds starting at the three minute mark."

"Countdown will begin in one minute 36 seconds," EDI announced.

Miranda threw a warp towards one of the cannibals, knowing it would start to rip the enemy in half and darted out from cover towards the back of the extraction zone. Cannibal gunfire erupted and she felt the bullets against her biotic shields. One pierced her at the shoulder, drawing blood. She muttered a curse and dove behind the desk near the door Shepard needed opened. She pulled a medi-gel from its storage on her belt and tore it open with her teeth then squeezed the cooling gel into the wound on her shoulder, front and back. She tossed the empty packet away.

Jacob fell out of the duct, landing hard on his side. Kasumi slammed her last sticky grenade on the side of the duct then jumped down, landing beside the fallen man. She drew her shotgun and fired at the nearing cannibals. Jacob stirred, struggled then pressed against the crate. "Kasumi," Miranda called. "We have to get this door open. Jacob, are you alright?"

"Been better," he answered through clenched teeth and he sighed as he kept cover. "Go," he motioned towards Miranda with his head, instructing Kasumi. "I'll stay here." He peered over the top of the crate then twisted and threw a ball of biotic energy at a cannibal. The creature levitated into the air, flailing helplessly at the pull.

Kasumi activated her cloak.

"Three Minutes until orbital failure," EDI announced.

Kasumi stood before the door, cloaked as she used her omni-tool to hack into the door's console. Miranda aimed over her cover, shooting at the scion then tossed another Warp. "Shepard, where are you?"

"I see the door ahead," he panted into the communications device. "We've got cargo and there're husks and scions on our asses."

"The door isn't open yet. You may have to take up some defensive positions." Miranda answered over the gunfire.

"Two minutes, forty five seconds until orbital failure."

The ship lurched, rolling to one side and the squad stumbled, sliding along the floor. Miranda braced a booted foot against the wall to keep from moving too far. Jacob gripped the crate. Kasumi staggered her stance, easily adapting.

Jacob fired the last three shots of his shotgun, finally dropping the scion. When the cannibals swarmed the scion to feed, Miranda tossed another overload, shocking the two remaining cannibals. The creatures dropped. She pushed to her feet and rushed to Jacob. She crouched low and slipped an arm around his waist to help him stand. "Come on. Kasumi, the door!"

"Almost."

"Two minutes, thirty seconds."

"We need it now!" Miranda ordered.

"Almost," Kasumi repeated.

Miranda assisted Jacob to the extraction point, bracing most of his weight though he tried hard to stand on his own. "Got it!" Kasumi called out and the door opened. Firefight ignited outside as Kasumi, the Commander and his squad raced to the extraction point. Miranda helped Jacob down the long corridor and onto the waiting shuttle. Inside, she guided him to one of the seats at the back of the shuttlecraft and twisted to force him to sit. At Jacob's nod, she rushed back to the door of the shuttle and aimed her pistol out. As the rest of the squad raced down the corridor, she fired at the two cannibals rushing after them.

Shepard was the last onboard and Garrus pulled closed the door, turning the handle to lock it in place. The shuttle sped away from the docking point with two minutes to spare. Miranda closed her eyes and gripped the metal rail beside the seats on her right. She tilted her head back and sighed. When her eyes opened, she was focused fully and she crossed the shuttle, keeping her balance on the fast and shaky flight back to the Normandy. She crouched before Jacob. "Where does it hurt? What happened?"

"Just fell hard," Jacob answered. "I'll be fine. I'll see the doc when we get back."

Miranda nodded and stood, looking for Shepard. The Commander stood beside Garrus, looking down at the pile of metal at his feet. "What is that?" Miranda asked.

"A geth," Shepard answered.

Any relief she felt at the success of the mission fled from her. "A what?"

"That was my sentiments exactly," Tali commented dryly.

"It's not just any geth," Shepard said. "It helped us. Didn't you see that?"

"I saw it," Garrus said. "It was sniping at the husks and cannibals coming at us. But it didn't shoot us."

Miranda shook her head. "So that means you bring it back with you?"

"I wasn't going to leave it." Shepard said and looked more closely at Miranda. He frowned. "What the hell happened to you?"

"You should see the cannibal," Jacob replied through clenched teeth and a laugh escaped him. He wrapped an arm around his waist, wincing at the pain caused by the laugh. He shifted his weight for comfort then sighed and settled back.

Miranda lay in her bed, staring up at the darkened bulkhead of the ceiling in her private cabin. Five hours had passed since their return from the derelict Reaper. EDI had begun integrating the technology with the Normandy and the deactivated geth was in the AI core, hopefully still deactivated. The first thing she did when they returned was to get all the data from Kasumi. It surprised her that Kasumi so easily relinquished the information though the thief likely retained a copy for herself.

After retrieving the information, Miranda forwarded it directly to the Illusive Man. The task was followed by a long shower. She lingered in the room, uncaring that it was the public room and few others would enter while she was inside. She washed her body three times, her hair four times. She knew that after the first, her person was clean but the stench of the rancid flesh clung in her nose; she couldn't get rid of it.

Miranda prided herself on her professionalism, her strength and ability to put aside emotions and reaction in order to complete a task. Sometimes, she needed time alone, times of reflection to sort out any thoughts or emotions. After the shower, she returned to her quarters and locked the door. She tried to work but found her mind wandered back to the experience on the ship. She tried to meditate but again, she found herself startled out of the meditation at a realistic sensation of a cannibal's bite.

She glanced at her wounded shoulder, almost healed. The wound was clean through and the medi-gel was a miracle cure for such injuries. Only a small puckering of flesh remained as evidence of the injury. She didn't see the doctor afterwards; Jacob's wounds were worse. Plus, her genetics ensured she healed quickly, easily regenerated.

Sleep eluded her that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the cannibals, the scions, the husks and the people impaled on the giant spikes in the core of the ship. Her mind refused to let go of the sight and instead dwelled, considering multiple scenarios. How easily she could have become one of those creatures? Were it not for the Lazarus Project, the cell on the derelict Reaper was exactly the kind of project Miranda would have led.

Miranda sat up on the bed, planting her heels into the mattress as she ducked her head, rubbing the back of her neck. She raked her fingers through her hair and stared at her computer console, a single yellow light blinking to indicate an unread extranet message. "EDI, where is Commander Shepard?"

"Commander Shepard is in his cabin."

Miranda nodded and swung her legs off the side of the bed. She stood and pulled the Cerberus standard three-quarter-sleeved shirt down to her hips. She picked up a pair of the standard pants draped over her couch and stepped into them, tugging them up to her waist. "Is the geth still deactivated?"

"At this time, the geth is secured in the AI core. It poses no threat to the Normandy."

Miranda nodded and padded barefoot to her desk and sat. "Alright. But is it still deactivated?" She read the message from the Illusive Man. He was pleased with the results and the data retrieved.

The AI hesitated to respond but after only a few seconds, replied. "No. The geth has been active for the last three hours. It poses no threat to my systems at this time and I will ensure it does not."

Miranda ducked her head, rubbing her brow with her fingers as she rested her elbow on the desk. "Keep me informed, thank you EDI."

"Of course, Ms. Lawson. Would you like me to inform the Commander you are looking for him?"

"No, thank you." Miranda answered and she opened her console. Activating the holocommunicator, she typed quickly along the console, drawing up her contact list. She entered the contact information she never used but acquired months ago into the holocommunicator.

Within ten seconds, the display flickered and upon it, an Alliance soldier. "State your access code." he said formally.

"I don't have one," she answered. "Patch me through to Admiral Hackett."

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I can't forward any communications without an access code." The soldier answered and tapped on his console. "State your location and how you acquired this contact."

"That is not your concern. My name is Miranda Lawson and I'm contacting him from a Cerberus Vessel in the Terminus system. If you understand what is good for you, soldier, patch me through to the Admiral. I know he is on your base. Now."

The soldier paused and stared at her, distrustful. He sneered and the feed blackened - a hold screen. Miranda leaned back, her fingers rhythmically tapping on the desk. It took 20 seconds for the visual to reappear, this time with Admiral Hackett on visual. "Ms. Lawson," he greeted. "I must say this is unexpected. How did you find my contact information?"

"How do I know anything?" She replied cryptically. "And there is no use trying to locate where my signal is originating. You know I'm with Commander Shepard and my signal is being diverted through fourteen star systems before linking with you. By the time you find where I'm broadcasting from, we will be gone."

"Protocol when contacted from a hostile organization, Ms. Lawson, I'm sure you understand." Hackett replied.

"I do," she answered. "I'm just making sure you know where we stand. I'm contacting you because I have some information you should know." She uploaded the files retrieved from the derelict Reaper.

Hackett did not accept initially but waited for security scans to ensure the uploaded file was nonthreatening. When sure, he accepted and opened the file. "What is this?"

"Information on Reaper indoctrination. How it works, how long it takes. What it does."

"Do I want to know how you've come across this information?"

Miranda shrugged casually. "I don't know. Do you?"

"No. I don't."

"I thought you would say that."

"Why are you sharing this with us?" Hackett questioned, skeptical. "You've never helped us before. In fact, you personally have sabotaged numerous operations we've engaged upon including galactic security issues."

"That wasn't personal. Simply business and I've had very good reasons. I'm sharing this with you because Cerberus cannot stop the Reapers alone. The galaxy may not be ready to admit they're real and perhaps the bureaucrats feel the same. But I know you and Anderson believe in Shepard and know the threat is real. Somebody has to be ready for the Reapers and if it's only Cerberus, we're all doomed."

"This doesn't change anything," Hackett said. "As far as the Alliance and the Council are concerned, Cerberus is still a terrorist organization. We cannot have vigilante organizations operating as Cerberus does."

"I don't expect anything else." Miranda answered. "But tiptoeing around red tape and politics is going to get us all killed. And I'm fully aware that if you manage to find me, you'd arrest me, put me on trial and likely execute me to make some grand statement to the galaxy that you have Cerberus on the run."

"And that would be a shame, Ms. Lawson." Hackett said. "We are very aware of what you do or at least are rumored to do. You and Mr. Taylor saved the Council. The Council knows it too. Do not think your acts go unnoticed. It doesn't have to be the way you suggest."

His words shocked her but Miranda showed no response. Why would he be so open about such a thing? What does he want from Cerberus that only she could offer? Never had anyone from the Alliance tried to get her to switch sides before, except for the Commander. Instead she deflected his bold attempt to recruit her. She curtly nodded. "Thank you. Don't waste that information I sent. It is invaluable. There is much to do before we jump the Omega 4 relay."

"I'm sure there is. What you, Commander Shepard and the crew are doing is a great service to humanity and the galaxy. Good Luck out there and come back alive."

"We can't promise that," Miranda answered. "Lawson out." she disconnected the communications feed, well aware that she still had over three minutes before they traced the signal to the system where the Normandy mined for Element Zero. She opened another message, uploaded the intel and composed a quick message: 'Thought this might be of use to you.' She sent the message to Liara.

With the information distributed, Miranda stood and walked back to her bed. She made the bed, tucking the corners. Before she left the room, she turned off her console. The halls of the Normandy were empty though a few sat in the mess hall. They played a game of cards, the holo-imager set in the middle of the table.

In the captain's cabin, Shepard's quarters were darkened, the only light coming from the bright aquarium on the wall. Two fish floated at the top. She sighed softly and pressed a button beside the aquarium, triggering a small shovel-like metallic plate to skim the surface of the tank and remove the dead fish. She pressed a second button, dispensing the food for the six remaining. They swarmed the surface to feed. The Commander lay on the bed on his stomach, a sheet draped up to his hips. He was bare-chested, his arms folded under his pillow. He slept still, unmoving, head facing sideways and his breath was heavy. She second-guessed her decision to come to his chambers but suppressed the nagging voice in her mind telling her that he didn't want her there since he was already asleep.

She ignored the inner voice and instead sat on the corner sofa, settled into the corner. She removed her shoes and stretched her legs out onto the couch. With a bent elbow on the back of the sofa, she leaned into her hand and sighed softly, closing her eyes. Why did his presence calm her so? She didn't want to think about it. She just needed some sleep.

Shepard knew the moment she entered his cabin. He was a soldier and often slept light; of course he would hear anyone enter his room. He wondered what bothered her so much that she kept her room locked for hours and why she finally decided to come to him. Would she slip into his bed? He heard her walk down the stairs, then hesitate then walk to the sofa. The slight depression of a cushion clued him into her position. He couldn't blame her for choosing the sofa. If he were asleep and she slipped into his bed and if the action startled him, he didn't know how he would react. Or maybe she wasn't sure if she was invited.

He wondered if she knew he activated the geth, spoke to it. Likely not. If she did, he could imagine her waking him to have a fight about activating a geth on the Normandy, especially without consulting her first. He debated letting her fall asleep on the sofa. He heard no more sound from her; she must be comfortable.

She had avoided him when they got back on the shuttle but that didn't mean she was unnoticed by him. She was covered in blood and flesh but Jacob and Kasumi were not. Jacob briefed him on their mission and he left nothing out. A horrible encounter for all of them and he regretted allowing any of them to go, no matter the necessity of the information. It was too close. Kasumi was shaken and unusually quiet. Jacob was wounded, Miranda nearly devoured by a cannibal.

Decision made, Shepard pushed the sheet off and got out of the bed. Miranda woke when he moved and looked to him, uncertain. Her eyes dipped from his chest to his boxer-clad hips then up to his eyes again. "I didn't mean to wake you." She said, softly. "I just ..." she trailed off and her eyes averted from him. She swung her legs off the sofa to stand.

"Stay," he said, voice husky from his sleep and he crossed the distance between them. He offered a boyish smirk and bent down. Giving her no time to object or counter him, he slipped an arm under her legs, the other around her waist and he lifted her with ease.

She tensed, stiff in his arms, unused to being held. She gripped his shoulder with her arm as if to help him. "Shepard, what are you doing?"

"Relax, I won't drop you. You're light." He held her close and chuckled at the uncertain expression on her face. "Never been picked up before, huh?"

"Not while I was conscious, no. What are you doing?"

"Like hell you're sleeping on the sofa when there's a perfectly good bed right here," he answered and carried her to the bed. He paused at the side of the bed and searched her eyes. "I want you here. Not there."

She brushed the backs of her fingers over his cheeks and offered a genuine smile. Relaxing in his arms she leaned up to him and kissed him softly. At his hum of pleasure, she slipped her hand around to the back of his head, holding him to her for a longer embrace. The kiss slowly ended and she stroked her fingers down his neck to his chest.

He set her on the bedside and walked around the bed, bending down to pick up the pile of discarded clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed. He tossed them into a corner. "So, Ms. Lawson, is the ship cold tonight?"

"A little," she answered softly.

Usually witty and sharp, her lack of such a response worried him and he knew it was not the temperature of the ship that brought her to his cabin. He slipped into the bed and reached for the sheets. "You know, skin on skin is usually much warmer." Maybe that would get a riled reaction from her.

She laughed and shook her head. "We can compromise." She wiggled out of her pants and folded them, laying them on the floor beside the bed.

His eyes raked her with appreciation, the tight shirt and black lace panties plus the stark contrast against her flawless skin. "Well, as amazing as this view is …" he motioned to himself in only his snuggly fitted boxers then to her. "I'm afraid we're not even."

"Oh, I never claimed we would be even," she offered a teasing smirk and settled into the mattress, turning her back to him.

He laughed and laid down beside her, slipping an arm around her waist as he pulled her back into his chest. He molded his body to hers, encasing her, his arm strong around her. Pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder then the back of her neck, he murmured. "Tease."

"Only because you like it," She shot back and relaxed against him. She enjoyed his comfort, his warmth and strength. Why did she so easily relinquish everything that made her strong when she lay in his arms? Was she so weak? Her teasing expression sobered in thought.

"What is it?" he asked, gently, his fingers tracing absent patterns on her abdomen beneath the hem of her shirt. "You're tense all of a sudden."

"It's nothing. I'm …" She trailed off. How many times did she deflect his questions? Did she so fear the answer, the truth? Resolved, she continued. "I feel … that I lose myself with you. Who I am. I don't like it."

He never loosened his hold. "Are you alright?"

"I will be."

"It can be hard," he said. "What you've been through today and to have a cannibal so close."

"That's not all of it. Not really." She reflected on what really bothered her, what ate at her and kept her away since returning from the ship. "I could have been on that ship, Shepard. I could have been one of those people indoctrinated … turned into one of those things. If you had survived the Collector attack, if you never died …" she peered back over her shoulder at him. "That ship is exactly the kind of cell, the kind of project I would have been assigned to. An impossible project, impossible odds with absolutely necessary results."

"But you didn't and you're not." He splayed his palm on her stomach. "I died that day from the Collectors and you brought me back. To think of what if's and could be's … it'll make you insane. Trust me. I spent many nights thinking, what if I never got so close to that Prothean Beacon."

She turned onto her back to look up at him. "If you never did, we would already be enslaved by the Reapers. Saren would have been free to do everything and an attack would have been successful on the Citadel."

"Yeah," he pushed her shirt higher up to fully expose her stomach. "You're right. And if you didn't bring me back, you'd be stopping the Collectors now. That is likely the project the Illusive Man would have given you."

"And I would have failed." She answered without hesitation. "I could never have done what you have done. Not like this."

"Maybe, maybe not." He tightened his grip on her waist. "But we're going to finish this together."

"You don't need me to finish this, Shepard," she smiled. "That's sweet of you to say though."

"It's true," he stated, intensely. "I couldn't do this without you. It's pretty damn good motivation to fight when people you care about are at risk."

She slowly shook her head. "You would have done it for Liara. Garrus. Tali … for Kaiden because he died for this cause. Because it is the right thing to do."

He grinned. "Can't you just let me say great romantic things and reward me for it?"

She arched a brow. "I'm not here to make things easy for you, Commander."

"Obviously not," he chuckled and flopped onto his back. As he stared up at the ceiling, he tucked an arm under his head to prop it up on the pillow.

She turned into him, curling into his side and she laid her head on his shoulder, her hand resting on the center of his chest. She closed her eyes when his arm wrapped around her, holding her to his side. Her fingers slipped through the coarse hair on his chest, rhythmic.

"That feels good," he admitted to her in a husked voice. His calloused hand roamed down her side, over her lace-covered hip and rested on her thigh.

"Why did you activate the geth?" she questioned, softly.

"EDI secured the room," he answered. "I just had to know."

"Know what?"

"I don't know. It's hard to explain." He curled his fingers, stubbed nails scraping her smooth thigh. "It helped us. It shot at cannibals coming after us and one that snuck up behind me. Why would it do that? And why did it have an N7 paudron. Like it used it to repair itself or something. I needed answers. And for a single geth to be here. They're usually together. Work as a collective. But this one was alone and had a conversation with me. An intelligent conversation. It never threatened me."

"The geth aren't known for … that's just bizarre." She said. "I have never heard of the geth doing anything like that."

"They don't," he said. "That's why I had to see. I think he can help us. Imagine. A geth on a collector ship if we have to hack into something."

"Could you control it? It's more unpredictable than the Krogan." She slowly shook her head. "I don't know about this, Shepard."

Could he trust the geth? Could he trust it not to attack the ship, the system and his crew? "Let's sleep on it. EDI has everything under control for now. After we wake up, we'll make a choice either way. Keep it or jettison it."

"Alright, but we discuss all possibilities. If the geth is rogue and attacks the ship, we could easily be dead before we could even defend ourselves."

"EDI wouldn't let it get that far." Shepard said, confidently. "We still need to get some more resources. It'll be a few days until our next ground mission. We'll talk to it again after we get some sleep."

"Mmm, and we're actually going to get some sleep?"

He chuckled at her teasing tone. "That depends if you had something more entertaining in mind."

She pressed her hand into her chest to lift up and she kissed him softly. "No. I think sleep sounds just perfect." She settled into the mattress again and turned her back to him, pulling the sheets up to her chin, knowing he would spoon against her again. She sighed at his touch and pressed back into him, comforted by his scent, the strength and the warmth. It unnerved her that she enjoyed it.