The brazen, pulsating beat of Afterlife's house music thumped ceaselessly, vibrating Shepard's chest as he sat in a corner booth of the club's lower level, flames licking up toward the ceiling behind him. Combined with the bright hues of pink and purple neon, the effect was near hypnotic—especially when paired with copious amount of alcohol he'd been drinking over the last several hours.
Across from Shepard sat Jacob Taylor and Zaeed Massani. The former Alliance (and now, former Cerberus) soldier and grizzled mercenary veteran were in the midst of a heated debate over the merits of Kentucky bourbon vs. Scotch whisky. Shepard had sprung for an authentic bottle of each, which Jacob and Zaeed had promptly drained nearly dry between the two of them.
Grunt was a short distance away, planted in front of the semi-circular bar. With an enormous mug of ryncol in one hand, he stood motionless, enthralled with the show going on atop the stage just above the bar. There, three gorgeous, scantily clad asari were strutting and dancing rhythmically to the club's music.
Thane Krios had positioned himself strategically at one end of the bar. From that vantage point, the drell assassin was able to keep one wary eye on their krogan friend and the other alertly watching out for any potential threats to the Commander's group. Shepard smiled to himself at the sight, knowing that Miranda had no doubt asked Thane to remain vigilant while they were out partying.
Also at the booth with Shepard sat Garrus Vakarian. Side by side, these two had fought countless battles, enjoyed great victories, suffered bitter defeats, and lost dear friends. The turian grounded the Commander during the most unsettled times and never failed to speak the truth to him. He was the truest friend Shepard had ever known.
This formidable group of warriors had been at the club for nearly three hours now, drinking to the success they'd just achieved and taking a well-deserved respite from the brutal pace they'd been operating under the past several weeks.
The revelry having reached a lull, Shepard's thoughts turned to the events of the last few days. Specifically, he fixated on the question that had been eating away at him since they returned back through the Omega 4 relay: Why?
Why were the Reapers doing this? Why the harvest every 50,000 years? Why were humans the target of this most recent example of Reaper meddling in their galaxy?
He had hoped that the assault on the Collector's base would have provided more clarity. But in the end, he was left with more questions. He felt as if they had only scratched the surface and were still fumbling in the dark, groping for answers.
Sovereign had spoken of the inevitability of the harvest and the need to bring balance to the galaxy, as if the slaughter was born out of some noble motive. But Shepard knew different. The Reaper vanguard espoused a level of malice and hatred toward organics that the Commander had never before encountered. Whatever the reason for this impending extinction event, it wasn't simply to balance the galactic books. These things were more than a force of nature or the unknowable hand of god. Shepard felt certain of it.
Garrus, having noticed his friend's pensive look, reached across the table for the nearby bottle of batarian ale, poured two glasses to the brim and slid one over to the Commander. "Shepard, it looks like you're missing something."
Pulled out of his thoughts by his friend's voice, Shepard took the glass with a crooked smile, raised a toast to Garrus, and downed the drink in one gulp. "Caught me."
Garrus continued to study the Shepard thoughtfully.
"You are aware that you just led a suicide mission through a previously impassable mass relay, right? Oh, and said relay happened to lead to the galactic core, where you confronted an ancient species that had been corrupted into an army of super soldiers, rescued your abducted crew, destroyed the base that launched attacks on human colonies and systematically kidnapped thousands in order to build Sovereign's red-headed-step-child, blew the Goddamn thing straight to hell… Oh, and right… All that with twelve freaking people, who, by the way, you got every damn one out alive!" Garrus paused to draw in a dramatic breath. "You remember that happening, right?" He joked.
"Alright, alright… I know, the thing we just pulled off…it's ridiculous," Shepard conceded, raising his hands in concession before leaning back in the booth, rubbing his hands across the top of his head and exhaling. "But damn it, Garrus, we've both been slogging through this shit for months. We've had our armor splattered with more blood, gore, and brains than I care to remember. And where are we now? Are we really any closer to stopping the Reapers from pouring through another relay and just ending us? I mean, how the hell are we going to stand up to that? Hell, we don't even know how many of those things there are! Hundreds? Thousands? Fucking Millions?!"
Garrus listened in silence to his friend's rant. He knew the frustration Shepard had been feeling for months was finally beginning boil over and he needed to vent.
"There's no doubt, Garrus. We put a helluva team together. We kicked the Collector's in the teeth and dished out some serious payback for what they did to the SR-1. But you know as well as I do we're going to need a fuck ton more than a dozen hardened bad asses at our sides when the Reapers get here. And besides, most of the team will be in the wind soon; Zaeed's going to pack it in and get back to tracking down Santiago. Wrex will be pulling Grunt back to Tuchanka any day now. Samara's likely heading back to the Justicar business. Legion's bound to head back to wherever the hell he came from. Jack, well she's just unpredictable at this point. And Thane, for shit's sake, is dying. Kasumi, Mordin, Jacob—all wild cards."
Garrus smacked his hand down on the table. "Listen, Shepard. I don't have any illusions either about our chances against a full-on Reaper onslaught. All I'm saying is that we just did something—Something that no one else even thought possible. And maybe, just maybe, it's enough for the Alliance or the Council or someone in this damn galaxy to take notice and start listening.
Shepard inhaled deeply, slowly nodding, as he digested Garrus' words and pulled himself together. "Alright. I get it. And you're right, what we did was pretty damn unbelievable. I know what you're saying—we have to keep moving forward. And we will."
This time Shepard reached over for the bottle of ale, topped off his friend's glass and poured another for himself.
Taking another long drink, Garrus looked back toward Shepard and narrowed his gaze slightly. "So, what are you telling Miranda about all this? What does she think our next move ought to be?"
"We haven't really had time to talk specifically about our next moves yet."
"Right…I'll bet you two haven't been doing much talking lately," Garrus said in his best tongue-in-cheek tone.
Shepard laughed, recognizing he walked into that one. "It hasn't been all like that. She was tied in knots worrying about Oriana after telling the Illusive Man to piss off."
Garrus gave an understanding nod. "Everything's okay on that front, then?"
"Yeah, Liara really came through for her. I think we're solid there."
"Good," Garrus said and then gave the Commander a searching look. "But what about the two of you? What's going on there, Shepard?"
Shepard looked a little taken aback by the question. "Miranda and I...Wait, what are you really asking, Garrus?"
Garrus turned to face his friend a little more squarely. "Listen, Shepard. I don't want to be an unsupportive friend here. I can see you really care for this woman and I'm pretty sure she's more attached to you than she's likely willing to admit. And I respect her. I do. I mean, yes, she definitely lived up to the 'Ice Queen' rep early on, but most of that softened over the months we worked together—you're influence, no doubt. And I'm not going to suggest we can't trust her either, because if you trust her—I trust her." He paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "I just want you to consider what kind of immediate future you two can have together and what that might mean for the fight that's ahead of us."
Shepard studied the turian for a long moment. "You're concerned that having her around jeopardizes my credibility."
Garrus looked at Shepard with a pained expression. "She quit Cerberus. I buy that. Tali buys that too. But Shepard, she's been a poster girl for that organization for a decade and there's likely not a damn thing we can do to change that perception of her. In the eyes of the Alliance and the Council she's always going to be a separatist at best or a terrorist and assassin at worst. And like you just said, the Collectors were just the opening act. The real threat is still out there, lingering just below the surface. We need everyone on board for that. And if you're the guy that helps make that happen like I think you're going to have to be, Miranda Lawson at your side may not be the most helpful person to have around when trying to build a coalition."
The picture Garrus painted hurt Shepard, but he couldn't become angry with him over it. He knew his friend was just trying to look after his best interests and force him to consider all the angles. And if he was honest, he knew there was truth in his words.
"I've thought about it, Garrus. I really have. And honestly, I don't have all the answers yet. But what I do know—what I have no doubt about—is that Miranda by our side for this fight makes us stronger than being without her. She's a brilliant tactician, a sound strategist, a deadly biotic, and a remarkably skilled covert agent. It's my job to make the Alliance and Council see her value and look past her history. We have an enemy closing in on us that won't bother to discriminate between Alliance, Cerberus, turian, krogan, asari, salarian, Hare Krishna's—whatever. We've all got targets on our backs."
"Hare what's?"
"Never mind," Shepard waved his hand. "My point is that we've got to make the powers-that-be understand we're all in this together or we'll just get picked off one by one.
Garrus smiled and nodded to the Commander. "Alright, I can buy that."
"Hell, Garrus. The Alliance thinks I'm a liar and just shy of a traitor as it is. And the Council… I honestly don't know what they were playing at with restoring my Spectre status at the same time telling me to get lost. Everything's a little sideways right now."
Shepard paused to take a long breath and stared dead into the turian's eyes. "And I'll tell you what, Garrus. Having Miranda close makes me feel so much better about dealing with this circus we've had to put up with. I wasn't looking for it. I didn't even necessarily want it. But I'm not letting her go or sending her away. Not a chance."
Garrus gave his friend a long look, an expression of understanding on his face, before pouring another round and raising his glass. "Then I can drink to that."
As they downed their drinks, a sullen looking, armor-clad batarian walked up to their table.
Both Shepard and Garrus looked up at the new arrival, staring for a moment before the Commander spoke up. "Anto. Good to see you… I guess. What's up?"
"Aria wants to see you," Anto said in his deep, guttural voice.
"Anto, sometimes I think those are the only five words you know," Shepard said, Garrus chuckling at his side. The Commander sighed and then reluctantly stood up from the table. "Alright, let's go."
Miranda tried desperately to refocus on her work after Jack marched out of her office. Vainly attempting to quell the anger and annoyance she felt in the wake of the woman's pointed accusations, she finally abandoned all hope of the notion and decided she needed a release for her frustration.
Confronting Jack in a fight to the death was probably imprudent, so she decided that directing her energy toward some exercise would be the more sensible approach. The shuttle bay contained equipment, but crews were busy patching the numerous hull breaches sustained when the Oculus attacked. She wouldn't find the solitude she craved there. But then Miranda remembered that Jacob kept a treadmill in the armory. He was out with Shepard now and that section of the ship hadn't sustained any damage, so the room should be clear.
Her decision made, a moment later Miranda had stripped off her uniform and thrown on tights, tank top, and athletic shoes. For the walk up a deck to the Armory, she threw on a light sweatshirt to wear over her slim fitting tank and was out the door.
A few minutes later, she was running purposefully on the treadmill, pushing herself with resolve and fueled by the anger and irritation Jack had roused in her. She increased her pace steadily as she warmed up, but her mind kept returning to what Jack had said earlier.
Miranda was thrown by the insinuation that she ought to feel uncomfortable about Jacob being on board while she pursued a relationship with Shepard. She had been so wrapped up in the mission, Oriana, and her growing feelings for Shepard she hadn't stopped to consider any awkwardness that Jacob might feel. A couple of months ago, it would have been a non-issue for her. The old Miranda wouldn't have been concerned for the personal feelings of a colleague or how her behavior might upset them. She would have simply done what was best for the mission, for Cerberus, and for herself.
This was still new territory for Miranda. Everything was complicated and unsettled and she felt strangely off balance.
She had been riding such a high before Jack walked into her office, oblivious to nearly everything else other than the wellbeing of Oriana and her growing feelings toward Shepard. But now, old, deep-seeded doubts about what kind of woman she could be without Cerberus and how she could adapt to this new world bubbled to the surface.
She was fighting the urge to crawl back into her old self and abandon these new, muddled emotions that had been stirred within her. It would be so much easier to fall back on her old self; the cold, methodical, detached operative, only seeing the world in black or white. The gray her world was becoming worried her.
The truth was, Miranda now felt a little ashamed of her behavior toward Jacob. And she was keenly aware that that thought would never have occurred to her a few months ago. Before, she was able to detach herself from such trivial emotions without much effort. She never allowed self-doubt or regret to cloud her judgment. Just tie it off and move on, she would tell herself. The next objective was always ahead, not behind. What was in the past was the past and not worth reflecting upon unless there was some significant tactical lesson to be drawn from the experience. She was a cold-hearted bitch; she had no trouble admitting that.
But months ago, when her sister's vulnerability again became an issue, that rigid, uncompromising worldview began to waver. Paired with the shock of nearly gunning down her childhood friend, only to see him murdered in front of her eyes a moment later, the surge of emotion she felt after speaking with Oriana for the first time propelled Miranda in to unknown territory. And Shepard was there to nudge her further out from beyond the icy exterior she'd cultivated for so long, all the while holding the lifeline that kept her from becoming truly adrift and making her feel safe despite her uneasiness.
That day on Illium had set in motion so many unexpected events. It was the day she'd allowed herself to look at the Commander not though the eyes of the callous Cerberus operative, but just as a woman. That moment had never occurred for Miranda when she was Jacob.
During Jacob's initial Cerberus recruitment, Miranda undoubtedly had led him on. She willfully led him to believe her interest in him extended beyond merely his status as a sought after Cerberus recruit. And Jacob had fallen for Miranda—hard. And she had encouraged it. At the time, it was a tactic that she felt needed to be employed to secure his services for Cerberus.
She'd used the promise of sex before. It was just another tool at her disposal when endeavoring to complete a critical mission. So alluring was the mere suggested notion that she very rarely ever needed to follow through with the physical intimacy her marks would lust after. But there were exceptions and Jacob was one of them. She regretted the miscalculation ever since.
The invented romance Jacob and Miranda had enjoyed had been brief. She ended it abruptly once he was committed to Cerberus. But Jacob had been left bewildered and hurt by the coldness of her behavior. That caused a level of awkwardness while the two worked together on the Lazarus project, but it was nothing that Miranda couldn't handle.
Tie it off and move on.
But now, after Jack's unfettered accusations pulled her back from the brief dream she'd been living, Miranda wondered if there was really any difference from how she had treated Jacob and what she was now engaged in with Shepard.
Miranda picked up the pace on the treadmill. Running harder and increasing the incline, pushing herself even faster. But despite her best efforts to focus on each step, her mind inevitably pulled her back to a conversation with the Illusive Man she'd been fixating on since Jack left her office an hour before.
It was soon after they'd pulled Jack from the Purgatory prison ship and only days before they faced the Collectors for the first time on Horizon. Miranda was summoned to the Normandy's communications room to brief her superior in person via the ship's Quantum Entanglement Communicator.
The Illusive Man had been sitting, casually smoking a cigarette while fingering a drink at his side as he addressed the concerns Miranda had raised about their newest recruit. "I'm well aware of the unstable nature of Subject Zero's emotional state and the combustible element she introduces, Miss Lawson. In fact, I'm counting on Jack pushing the envelope onboard the Normandy."
Miranda's face had registered confusion, taken aback slightly. "But sir, I'm not certain exploiting her combat potential is worth the risk of having her on the ship. We can easily find others that fulfill that role well enough but that don't endanger the entire crew with their mere presence."
"Miranda, Jack is not present on the Normandy merely to provide additional punch for the ground team. We need to drive Shepard in every possible way in order to evaluate him for long-term Cerberus suitability. In order to do that, I need to test his emotional and intellectual state in ways that cannot be accomplished in a lab." Miranda began to feel as if she was being lectured, the Illusive Man speaking as if he was enlightening a novice apprentice. And she had bristled at the notion.
Taken aback, Miranda cocked her head and replied in exasperation. "So we're running a socialization experiment on the Commander? Sir, please tell me I did not spend two years of my life putting that man back together only to judge his tolerance for sociopaths and murderers!"
"You know that's not the case," he had replied sternly. "This exercise is significant to our overall goal," The Illusive Man had held up a hand to stop Miranda as she opened her mouth again to object. "Of course, the investigation and elimination of the Collector threat is paramount, but don't forget what we're really trying to accomplish here—what we must prepare to confront."
"The Reapers. Yes, sir, I have not forgotten," Miranda conceded. "But, I don't see how this unbalanced woman or Shepard's ability to deal with her aids us in that respect."
"Miranda, I know that you believe as I do that Shepard's significant prowess on the battlefield is only part of his unique equation. He is a natural leader that pulled together an unlikely alliance during the mission to stop Saren Arterius, confronting numerous obstacles and moral dilemmas in order to achieve success. The traits and qualities that allowed for his effectiveness then are the same we need to cultivate now. We'll need that same dynamic leader to emerge to help us acquire the support and influence we need. Our Shepard can be that man again, but he isn't quite there yet."
Miranda still didn't entirely agree with the Illusive Man's methods, but she began to lose her will to resist further, allowing him to continue uninterrupted.
"So, if I need to employ a homicidal and tragically flawed young woman in order to help stimulate aspects of Shepard's mind and emotional development, so be it. He is potentially the most important asset Cerberus has at its disposal. He's not only the potential key to confronting the Reaper threat, but also in lifting Cerberus into mainstream acceptance and paving the way for humanity's elevated influence throughout the galaxy."
"I understand, sir," Miranda had conceded, but still dubious of the usefulness for such psychoanalytic exercises.
"Good," he had replied and proceeded to take another long, deliberate drag of his cigarette. "And, Miranda, along those lines, it would be prudent to initiate another front toward gaining buy-in from the Commander."
"Sir?" Miranda had replied, feeling strangely uneasy.
"The Commander is a man known to be susceptible to the advances of beautiful women," he had said bluntly.
Miranda's shoulders slumped slightly and she had paused for a moment before responding, "Sir, I'm not a prostitute. And if I'm not mistaken, this is an aspect of Chambers' directive. Is it our intention to lure the Commander in further with the promise of a Cerberus harem?"
"Don't be so dramatic, Miranda. And Kelly will carry out her orders as I have instructed. This is merely an addendum to your original mission parameters. I've considered this option further and determined that someone of your caliber may be more suitable for the assignment. He does seem to value intelligence, strength and confidence in addition to physical attractiveness—all qualities that you possess, Miss Lawson. "
"You considered this possibility before?" Miranda asked with a hint of resentment in her voice.
The Illusive Man didn't flinch from the allegation. "I did. But until the Commander was revived and confirmed to be up and running at peak physical levels, the approach was irrelevant. However, we've now moved on to another stage." He had paused to take another sip of his drink before continuing. "Shepard is a complex man. Undoubtedly a hardened combat veteran and charismatic leader, but he's also someone that seems to draw strength from emotional balance. He's at his best when he feels a deep connection with friends and colleagues. He's even better when he feels he's fighting for something more."
"You're suggesting he's a sensitive man."
"I'm suggesting we have a better chance of recreating the complete man if we provide every possible catalyst to aid in emotional and cognitive restoration. Besides, he does possess something of a magnetic personality, wouldn't you say."
Miranda had scoffed out loud at that. "Certainly, sir. That has been well chronicled." Miranda was keenly aware of how that silly Williams girl had become immediately infatuated with Shepard during their pursuit of Saren. It must have been quite a blow for her to see the Commander so taken with the asari. But the truth was that he could have had a thousand Ashley Williams', just lining up and gladly opening their legs for the man if only to carve out a small space in his world. Miranda detested such women. "And I fully realize that from time to time I've been required to implement extraordinary measures to procure the loyalty of an asset. But is getting Shepard laid really going to advance our goals? For god's sake, I was bloody project director for Lazarus, sir."
"Your point, Miss Lawson?"
Miranda knew this argument was a losing proposition, but the frustration she felt over this affront to her pride forced her to heedlessly push ahead. "My point, sir, is in this particular case, I don't see the value in having me or Chambers or any other bloody tart lure the Commander into bed!"
The Illusive Man's response had been stern and unmistakably devoid of any further patience. "Ms. Lawson, I expect you to carry out my orders as I have outlined them. If your advances are rebuffed, so be it. We will still have useful data. But by successfully engaging in a more personal relationship with the Commander, we'll have yet another potential hook to exploit in the future. Am I understood?"
Miranda had attempted to gather her dignity and compose herself back into the stoic operative she prided herself as. "Yes, sir. I will put forward my best efforts toward achieving all of my directives."
"Good. That will be all."
She remembered standing motionless in the briefing room as the holographic interface dissipated, feeling demeaned and stunned.
Miranda was pulled back to the present by the sound of the Armory door opening. She looked up toward the entrance to see Jacob casually walk in, clearly a little drunk, and stop just inside the doorway. He looked surprised to see Miranda and eyed her with curiosity. Shepard and the rest of the men must have just returned. She abruptly shut down the treadmill and came to a halt.
"Hey… Miranda. Getting a little exercise in?" Jacob finally managed.
Miranda was still lost in her thoughts and could only blankly stare back at Jacob, breathing heavily in her sweat stained clothes. She glanced down and saw that she had run the equivalent of nearly seventeen miles.
She studied Jacob in paralyzed silence for a few moments. Did he still harbor feelings for her? Was he torn between the respect he had for Shepard and the resentment he might feel over seeing Miranda with the Commander? Miranda realized that she had never been thoughtful enough to talk directly about the relationship with Jacob, simply continuing to callously ignore him and the history they shared. She suddenly felt ashamed and uncomfortable under Jacob's gaze.
"Miranda? Are you okay?" Jacob asked again, continuing to stare at her with a puzzled expression.
"I'm fine… Thank you. I… just needed to get in a quick run," Miranda stammered, finally having snapped out of her trance. She quickly grabbing the sweatshirt she had brought with her and made for the exit.
"Uh huh," Jacob said, still looking at her suspiciously.
"I need to get back to my duties," she blurted out and made to stride past him and through the doorway.
"Miranda, wait," Jacob said and seized her upper arm, arresting her movement. His grip wasn't rough, but it was firm.
A little surprised by the contact, Miranda turned to look at him with vague irritation—or was it fear?—in her eyes, "Jacob—don't." She then pulled free of his grip and pushed past him and through the doorway.
Bewildered and annoyed, Jacob was left in her wake.
Late into the Omega evening, Shepard and his friends staggered back up the pathways leading to the Normandy's docking birth.
As they approached the ramp leading up into the ship's shuttle bay, Garrus, Zaeed and Jacob went ahead and made sure the thoroughly plastered Grunt navigated his way up to his tank without causing any damage. Shepard and Thane trailed their companions a few meters behind.
As his friends maneuvered the krogan through the Normandy's cargo hold, Jack emerged from the top of the ramp and strode down toward them with a dark green, beat-up duffle bag slung over one shoulder.
Thane, having spotted the woman, left the Commander's side and went on ahead, allowing Jack and Shepard a moment of privacy. As the drell passed her, he offered a respectful nod that spoke volumes. The woman acknowledged the gesture in kind, a meager smile and a grudging look of respect appearing on her face for a brief moment.
Approaching Shepard at the base of the ramp, Jack stopped as the Commander blocked her route away from the Normandy. "Going somewhere, Jack?" he asked.
"What gave me away?" Jack asked sarcastically as she allowed her bag to drop to the ground beside her. She looked a little closer into Shepard's eyes and said, "Jesus, Shepard. You look pretty wasted."
"What?... No, I'm good. Really. Totally good," Shepard stammered. Truth be told, he was smashed, but years of N7 training not only cultivated elite combat and survival skills, but also a nearly unmatched tolerance for alcohol.
"Right. Anyway, it's time for me to get off this boat. I already talked to your girlfriend and squared my payment. I think she's probably going to throw a party of something."
"I see," Shepard said. She was probably right, he thought. Miranda must be thrilled. "You know, Jack, you don't have to go anywhere. We've got a laundry list of work to do prepping for the next threat."
Jack gave the Commander a long, searching look before responding in a resigned tone. "I don't think so, Shepard. We both lived up to our ends of the bargain, so I'll be getting on with my life now."
Shepard looked at her for a long moment before finally asking, "Where will you go?" He knew he wouldn't be able to sway Jack into remaining. It wasn't in her nature. Her instincts were always to fight or run. The fighting was over—for now—so now she was running.
Jack shrugged. "Don't know yet. There's plenty of good merc work to be found in the Terminus, but maybe I'll just take a little vacation… you know, relax on a nice sunny beach somewhere, curl up with a good book."
Shepard snorted a laugh at the image. "Right. You should definitely consider that, Jack," he said with an ironic smile.
Jack smirked back at the Commander. "You know, Shepard, when you get tired of hitting Cerberus Barbie, I'll be available to show you what a real woman can do with her biotics," Jack said while placing a suggestive hand on his chest.
"Uh huh," he nodded, smiling but not really taking her forwardness seriously. "Keep in touch, Jack… and be good."
Jack rolled her eyes and hoisted the duffle back onto her shoulder. "You're an idiot, Shepard." But then her expression turned serious, an authentic look of concern in her eyes. "But be careful out there. And don't trust anyone. I have a feeling a lot of shit is about to hit the fan after what you just pulled off."
"Will do, Jack." Shepard said, nodding thoughtfully.
Jack stared back at Shepard for a long moment before apparently making up her mind. She quickly kissed him full on the lips, and without another word, pushed past him and down the pathway that led away from the Normandy and toward the seedy streets beyond.
Shepard turned as she passed, with a slightly sad expression on his face, and watched her stride away with a determined pace, refusing to glance backward. He never saw the tears that welled up in Jacks eyes as she was engulfed by the crowds beyond, disappearing into the heart of Omega.
Emerging from the elevator at the ship's CIC, Shepard found the night watch crew busy at work. Looking around he noted Miranda's absence. "EDI, XO Lawson's location, please?"
"Miss Lawson has just retired to her quarters, Commander," EDI replied, but then added. "She left instructions not to be disturbed."
Shepard furrowed his brow at that, wondering if there was anything wrong. Maybe she's pissed I've been away off ship so long, he thought to himself. He'd better go check in with her. "Thank you, EDI."
A minute later he was outside Miranda's office, waiting for her to disengage the lock she'd applied to her door. Finally, the door opened and he was allowed to enter.
He found her sitting behind her desk, dressed in her workout attire and drenched in sweat. "Hey. How's it going…? Been working out?"
"Yes. And everything's going very well, Commander. We've made a lot of progress on the critical hull repairs and should be ready to get underway within 36 hours."
Shepard looked at her suspiciously. He could tell there was something off straightaway. Since they'd become intimate, Miranda had always maintained a professional demeanor with him while the two were on deck or around the crew, but they were alone in her quarters now. Something had upset her, he was sure of it. "I just ran into Jack. She was on her way off the ship. She's gone."
"I'm aware, Commander," she responded matter-of-factly while still not looking up from her terminal.
Shepard stood there in silence for a few moments before finally asking, "Are you alright, Miranda?"
"Of course, I'm fine, Commander," she replied in her practiced, businesslike tone. Shepard was wholly unconvinced.
"Alright…" Shepard said.
Miranda seemed to think better of her curt reply and finally looked up to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, John. I'm just tired. I'm going to finish this up, get a quick shower, and then knock off to bed," she said and smiled weakly.
Shepard studied her for a moment, knowing something was bothering her. He opened his mouth to probe further, but then closed it, thinking better of it and deciding not to press the issue tonight. Reluctantly, he finally said, "Okay," and managed a sympathetic smile. It went unsaid that she would be sleeping in her own bed this night.
Miranda looked up at him appreciatively, seemingly relieved that Shepard had let it go at that, and said, "Thank you. Good night."
Shepard then nodded and left her alone as he walked out the office. As the doors closed behind him, he was left wondering what he'd missed while he was away at Afterlife. Finally conceding that Miranda and her emotions might always remain something of a mystery, he sighed and made his way back to the elevator.
As the doors to the lift closed, Shepard's thoughts turned to Jack's leaving. He knew she was only the first of the team that would be heading out in the days ahead.
Garrus was right. He should be celebrating their victory. It was a job well done.
But instead, Shepard was left only with a feeling of foreboding, troubled by what the future would bring next.
Author's note:
So again, this and chapter 4 were originally all going to be one chapter, but it would have been pretty long, especially with the flashback thrown in. So, for the sake of getting content out more quickly I decided to break up the work.
I don't want Shepard to necessarily come off as defeatist here, but I do want to illustrate that he's realistic about where they are in the fight.
I think we have to put Miranda's 'thawing' into context here as well. She's still dealing with some internal conflict and figuring out how to adapt to feeling these new emotions and transitioning into a new life. At the outset of the mission, there was an entirely different dynamic going on from where we start off in this story. How she went from the femme fatale temptress to (apparently) falling in love with Shepard is something I want to track a little further.
In the next chapter we'll head out from Omega and hopefully mix in a little action while we're at it. I'm getting closer to some of the chapters I've really been looking forward to writing for a while, so please stay tuned! Thanks for reading!