Chapter 30
SSV Normandy, Minos Wasteland, Outer Council Space
Miranda propped herself up on one elbow and traced her fingers along the ragged scar across Shepard's chest. "This is new," she said with a concerned smile. Her hair was tousled and there was still a gleam of perspiration on her face. The bed sheet was partially draped over her, clinging to her moist body, as she lay there next to him. Their clothes were scattered around the room, shed quickly during the urgency of their desire.
"Palaven," he said. He was on his back, eyes closed, with one hand behind his neck while his other arm caressed Miranda's back.
She frowned, shaking her head slightly. She still found it maddening when he acted so cavalier about his personal safety. "You need to learn to be more careful with this body," she said, continuing to move her hand over his chest and shoulders. "I built you. Remember? I own you."
He opened his eyes and smiled. "Then in that case, it's a good thing you're here to take possession of your property," he said. "I missed you. Obviously."
"I'm glad," Miranda said before kissing him again, drawing in a long breath through her nose as her lips pressed against his. "But I'm only partially kidding, Shepard. I won't stand by and allow you to continue to be so reckless in the field. This conflict is just beginning and we need you around for the duration."
"You think you can keep me in line?"
"I know I can, Captain."
"Good. Then it sounds like you're ready to resume your place on the Normandy."
"What?"
"As second in command. My Executive Officer."
She smirked back at him, figuring he was playing with her again, until she realized he wasn't. "You can't be serious."
"Oh, I'm definitely serious. I need your help running this ship, Miri. I need my XO back."
"Shepard, this ship already has an assigned Executive Officer."
"I have a hospitalized XO with trust issues. Besides, it wouldn't be permanent, as much as I'd like it to be. Williams earned the post and was hand-picked by Admiral Anderson. Once she's up on her feet again, after we get back to the Citadel, she'll have the position back. Assuming she still wants it, that is. I'm not going to undercut her."
"Your loyalty to her admirable," she said. "I'm not so sure she would do the same thing for you if your situations were reversed." Miranda recalled the day they'd encountered Ashley Williams on Horizon, more than a year past and not long after Shepard had agreed to work with Cerberus. It seemed like a lifetime ago. She remembered the woman's pigheadedness and the bitterness she'd directed toward him. With the urgency of their mission to find and stop the Collectors, her childish idealism was absurd to behold. She'd refused to even consider joining them, unable to accept his partnership with the organization she clearly despised. But then she'd appeared again on Noveria, risking her own life while she trying to save her former Commander's. Clearly, there was still something remaining of the woman that had been plucked from Eden Prime and of the feelings she had for the man that had saved her from the geth.
"Maybe," he said. "But regardless, she's a good month away from being fit for active duty. I don't have a problem with her coming back to the Normandy once she's ready. But that's too long to go without a second. As it is, we barely have enough qualified people to man all the critical posts. It's why you're needed so badly here. And besides, there's no one else I trust with the responsibility."
She frowned. "There has to be another officer on board that can step into the role, at least for a short time."
"Not with the right experience and temperament. It's not a good fit for Vega and I need him looking after the Marines and on ground assault missions. I barely know Cortez, but the same goes for him. He's our only qualified small craft combat pilot. Joker? Come on. And there's nobody else on board north of the rank of lieutenant JG aside from Doctor Chakwas. They're all too young, too inexperienced."
"Garrus isn't Alliance, but he's at least an official member of the turian military. He understands how to operate a vessel of this size."
He shook his head. "I need Garrus by my side on the ground too. Besides, he doesn't want the job."
"Did you ask him?"
"I didn't offer it, but we discussed it. He said I should talk to you."
"Okay," Miranda said slowly. "But don't you think this might amount to something of a breach of protocol?" She waved a hand, gesturing at her naked form stretched out next to him, only partially covered by the sheet. "Our relationship when the ship was flying under the Cerberus banner was one thing. We weren't especially fussy about that sort of thing back then. But this is a Navy warship now, Shepard, where that kind of inappropriateness isn't overlooked. For god's sake, they went to the trouble and devoted the time to remove the bar from Port Observation. Oh, and let's not forget the inconvenient matter of my wanted status for my crimes against the Alliance. I realize you enjoy testing the limits of your autonomy, but putting me in a position of authority on the Normandy would be ludicrous."
He smiled. "First off, technically, this is an Alliance Navy warship under the command of an active Council Spectre. Hackett knew as much when he promoted me and confirmed my command of the Normandy. That gives me a certain amount of freedom with how I operate the ship and who I bring in to help. I'm not exactly running things by the book here."
She gave him a look. "Really? I hadn't noticed. Listen John, I understand you think you're beyond the reach of certain levels of scrutiny, but I think you might be pushing the envelope a little too far a little too soon. It's not wise. You have to be accountable to someone or else you're merely commanding a mercenary ship."
"I hear you, Miranda," he said. "And I'm not offering you the position just to piss people off. But I'm not going to worry about stepping on the Admiralty's toes either. This war is too big for that. We can't get caught up with protocol and regulations if we're going to survive the Reapers. Garrus and Liara aren't Alliance either, but they're filling critical roles on the ship, just like they did on the SR-1. And if they're willing, I won't hesitate to welcome back people like Tali and Samara and Grunt either. And all that's without taking into account the elephant in the room. EDI is a fully self-aware, unshackled Cerberus-developed AI. It doesn't get much more unconventional than that.
"Honestly, I really do need your help. There's no one else anywhere near as qualified or capable as you. This crew is still just beginning to come together to form a cohesive group and most them are straight out of the Academy or were only assigned to the Normandy during the refit phase. I need you to help me strike a balance between the world they're familiar with and how you know I'm going to run things. You can create that foundation before Williams comes back, ease the transition for everybody. I can keep the heat off our backs for at least that long."
She was staring back at him, thoughtful.
"Look, you can't go back to the Citadel now anyway. Not yet, at least. Not with Naval Intelligence out for blood. I know you're perfectly capable of evading those assholes, but it would still take you out of the game with Ambassador Goyle. You'd be wasting your talents laying low like that. We'll be out on patrol for a few weeks, giving us time to get the situation with the warrant sorted out. In the meantime, you'll be doing invaluable work here."
She let out a long breath. "Do I get my old office and quarters back?"
"Do you need them?"
She made a noncommittal noise. "Certain formalities ought to be maintained, Captain."
"As soon as the Primarch's out of here, it's yours. Until then, there's still one open berth in the officers' quarters if you're concerned about appearances. Which, by the way, I'm not." He moved his hand to her face, brushing aside a stray hair. "Does that mean you'll consider it?"
Miranda smiled. "I'll consider it," she said, leaning in and kissing him. She then slid her body on top of his, straddling him between her legs, allowing the sheet to fall away completely. "But first, I think I need to inspect my property for damage more thoroughly."
Hours later, Shepard woke to find Miranda stirring beside him. Her back was to him and she'd drawn herself into a fetal position. She was whimpering softly in her sleep, her breaths rapid and uneven, and her whole body was trembling. She was dreaming, something dark and menacing.
He put his arm around her and pulled her in close to his chest, willing her to become calm. He could feel her heart racing. After a few moments, she fell silent again, relaxing a measure. Then her tense muscles gradually became less rigid and her breathing began to stabilize. The cabin was still and quiet again, with only the subtle, ever-present hum of the drive core penetrating the silence. The cool, blue lights of the aquarium, the digital clock and the stars shining in through the viewing panel above the bed provided the only illumination.
He held Miranda there for a long time, not wanting to wake her but unwilling to release her. He moved his hand through her hair, trying to soothe her further, and felt it. Just at the base of her skull, the subtle patch of raised scar tissue. He felt a knot in the pit of his stomach tighten, knowing exactly how she'd suffered the wound, imagining what the SAIS had done to her. He knew the trauma of it. He'd experienced it himself.
In an instant, he was transported back to that dank, battered freighter compartment, Major Richter beckoning him to look on as the vid of Miranda's execution played. He remembered the despair, the rage, the sickening powerlessness he had felt. He remembered feeling his soul ripped in half, devastated.
Only, it hadn't been Miranda at all. They'd used Sarah Patel for that particular act of torment. Another innocent lost. Another life counted against his ledger.
It wasn't fair. Shepard had managed to get them all through that insane mission alive, hitting the Collectors head-on and pulling them from the horror of that base. Every last one of them, he'd made sure they'd all gotten out. And what did they get for their trouble? A brutal death at the hands of a rogue Alliance outfit corrupted by Reaper influence and directed by a malicious psychopath.
Hadley, Gardner, Rolston, Hawthorne. Those were some of the names of those he knew for certain were among Richter's victims, slaughtered in ways similar to how Patel had gone. And there were more. Some they could confirm were among the dead, more that were still missing but likely never to be found. Not with the galaxy burning.
But now, seeing the scars that Miranda carried from her time in custody, feeling what they had done to her, Shepard's inner rage threatened to boil over renewed. It was the same fury that burned in him from a young age, a fire that he'd learned to master and redirect. He'd need to do it again. Control it, aim it at the enemy before him. But he would not forget.
Major Richter was very likely dead. Shepard had learned that the man had been held in custody on Earth and was there when the Reapers had struck. There wouldn't have been a lot of motivation to evacuate a prisoner accused of treason and facing multiple charges of murder. But still, if by some miracle he had survived, Shepard would find him and see to it that justice was served. His crew deserved that much, at least.
He pushed the darkness aside, returning his focus to the woman beside him. She was breathing normally again, resting peacefully. Alive.
He'd do anything to keep her that way. He wouldn't lose her again. He couldn't.
Shepard glanced over at the clock. It had been just over five hours since they'd tuned in. He'd stay with her a little while longer, he decided, before getting up and allowing her to sleep more.
It was still early, but he wouldn't find anymore rest tonight.
After quietly slipping out of his quarters, careful not to wake Miranda, Shepard made his way down to the Mess. It was still early, so to speak, more or less the very early hours of Citadel Standard Time. The majority of the Second Watch was still on duty, but a few crew members were beginning to loiter near the kitchen, hunting for a quick breakfast or a jolt of caffeine.
Shepard hadn't been exaggerating to Miranda. As strong as his selfish desire was to keep her close, he also truly needed her help running the Normandy. They were still operating on crew levels well below the minimum complement and without qualified backups for several key posts. Added to that, many of the people he did have were young and inexperienced, like Samantha Traynor, and had simply been absorbed into the crew after the catastrophic loss of Yeager Station.
They were doing well, many working double shifts and stretching their skills to the limit, but that sort of thing couldn't go on indefinitely. It was less than three weeks into the war but there were already signs of stress and fatigue setting in. He needed more qualified people, but he also needed someone of Miranda's caliber to help optimize the crew's abilities and balance out what seemed an impossible challenge. Well, impossible for most. But not for her. He understood her brilliance.
Offering a quick smile and a nod to the mess hall attendant behind the kitchen, Shepard grabbed a pastry from one of the trays and poured himself a full cup of coffee. He turned, intending to head straight up to check on things in the CIC before retreating into his ready room, but stopped when he glimpsed a familiar face sitting off in the corner. He altered direction and strolled over to where the pretty, dark-haired girl was seated.
"Oriana, you're up early. How are you?"
Oriana Lawson was wearing a fresh set of Alliance Navy BDUs, cut slim through her torso, her shoulder-length hair framing her young, virtually perfect features. She looked rested. Sitting alone at the table, she was hunched over a bowl of cereal, a piping hot cup of tea nearby, and a datapad in one hand. After a moment's hesitation, she glanced up and recognized him standing there. "Oh, hi, Shepard," she said, smiling. "I'm good, thanks."
"May I?" he said, nodding to the nearby empty seat.
"Of course."
Shepard put his coffee and breakfast down on the table and slid into the chair across from her. "The uniform suits you."
She looked down at herself. "You think?" she said, taking her tea in her hand and blowing over the cup. "Well, blue is my color."
"How did you sleep?"
"Like a rock. Kasumi snores sometimes, but I was so exhausted it wouldn't have mattered," she said, taking a sip of tea before giving him a wicked smile. "How about you, Captain?"
He gave a soft laugh and grinned. "Just fine, thank you. Your sister's still asleep."
"Good. She's barely had a wink the last few days." She brought a spoonful of her cereal to her mouth and took a bite. "Did she have the nightmares?"
Shepard nodded slowly. "Yeah. How long has that been going on?"
Oriana's expression darkened. "Too long."
He frowned and sipped from his mug, the dark thoughts of her ordeal coming back to forefront of his mind again. When Liara had first described the condition they'd found her in, when she, Kasumi and the others came for her, he'd nearly punched a hole straight through the Normandy's hull.
He thought about her scar again. His matching wound and damaged tissue had been fully repaired months ago. The Alliance surgeons, including Chakwas, had seen to it. It hadn't even been a question for him, the reconstructive surgery having been completed while he was still out cold. And he knew it wouldn't have been any trouble at all for Miranda to have a similar procedure, fully removing all traces of incision. She could have had it done any number of times while on the Citadel. But yet, she had chosen not to.
"I'm worried about her," Oriana said. "A lot of bad stuff has happened to her these last few months and she seems determined to hold it all inside. She says she's past it all, but she's just not. I can tell. She won't even talk to Kasumi about most of it. She's pretty stubborn, if you hadn't noticed."
Shepard gave her a sad smile. "I'm afraid what she's dealing with, what she went through, a lot of it's my fault."
She shook her head dismissively. "Miranda told me you'd probably say something like that. I don't think that's true. And she definitely doesn't. If anything, she blames herself. But if you ask me, you're both being dumb. The way I see it, neither one of you is to blame. You were both trying to help other people and help each other when those jerks jumped your ship. The Illusive Man's the real villain in all that."
"I won't argue with you there."
Her expression brightened. "But I'm really glad I didn't see her back down here last night. That's a good start."
Shepard nodded slowly, returning her smile, and took another sip of his coffee. "Reading anything good?" he said, gesturing toward the datapad.
She glanced down at the device. "Not really. Just trying to catch up on some of the news we missed out on over the last few days, being out of communication and all. I was hoping to find something out about Reaper activity in the Utopia system."
"You're worried about your folks on Eden Prime?"
Oriana nodded. "I know communications are disrupted all over the quadrant, so I'm trying not to get too worked up about not hearing from them. But it's been well over a week now since we last spoke."
"I can tell you that the latest strategic assessment intel we have showed Utopia clear of Reaper activity. There was a screening force that struck Terra Nova, but it looks like the enemy's focusing on high population settlements with significant military assets and installations. Eden Prime's largely agrarian, so it's not likely a priority target." He frowned, wishing he could give her more comfort. Their intelligence from the region was as accurate and as current as it could be, but there were just no certainties with a war of this scope. "Tell you what, I'll have you set up with a priority alert for any info that comes through our networks about Exodus. That's the full spectrum of civilian and military data feeds."
"Thanks, Shepard," she said. "That would be great. And your ship's VI has already been really helpful, granting me access to all kinds of resources. It's amazing how much data runs through the Normandy."
"Actually, EDI's an artificial intelligence, not a standard military grade VI."
"You're shitting me."
He smiled. "Fully self-aware," he said and leaned in toward her, lowering his voice a fraction. "But don't spread that around too loudly. Some of the crew doesn't even know yet."
"How scandalous," she said, beaming, and then leaned in toward him and lowered her voice to match his. "Actually, I already knew that. But I wasn't sure if I was supposed to, so I figured I'd play dumb."
"Right," he said and gave a soft laugh. "Arcturus."
She nodded.
Shepard's reinstatement as a Council Spectre had restored his access to the sweeping array of classified documents and files contained within the office's archives. After learning about Miranda's activities for Goyle and, by extension, Admiral Anderson, he'd used that authorization to get a clearer picture of what had occurred on Arcturus Station. He hadn't been the least bit surprised to see how effective Miranda had been there. He was intimately familiar with her combat talents and skills in covert operations. Even without the use of her biotics, she was a force of nature.
When he'd also learned that she'd worked alongside Jack during the mission, it had nearly floored him. But also buried within the report was mention of another, unnamed teenaged human female on the team who had ultimately prevented the release of a second instance of the Reaper-based pathogen. The girl had been wounded in the leg during an exchange with a rogue Alliance agent and received emergency medical care from first responders on scene. It didn't take him long to find a few shreds of corresponding archived vid files that gave a glimpse of Oriana's face.
"I heard you took a bullet there," he said
Oriana's hand automatically went to her upper leg, rubbing the spot where the slug had torn through her flesh and muscle. "Stung like a sonuvabitch."
He gave another smile as his personal comm chirped. Specialist Traynor's voice came across the line a moment later. "Captain, we're preparing to drop out of FTL and begin deceleration. ETA to the Fortis system mass relay is just under seven hours. I also have all of our queued comm packages ready for your approval before broadcast."
With most conventional communications systems highly impaired during FTL travel, the periods between jumps and transit through the mass relays were always vital, particularly in a time of war. After dropping from faster-than-light velocity, a warship could expect to receive a deluge of comm traffic as the full range of its technologies became available again and the links to the comm buoy networks reestablished. Conversely, it was a critical time to broadcast data and messages that weren't urgent enough for the QEC process. "Understood, Traynor. I'll be right up."
He stood up from the table, his mug of coffee in hand, and gave Oriana a reassuring look. "I have go, but try not to worry too much. We'll get word on Eden Prime soon."
She gave a grateful nod and smiled back up at him. "Thanks, Shepard," she said and then eyed the untouched pastry he'd brought with him. "Hey, you gonna finish that?"
"It's all yours. I'd say you'd earned it, Miss Lawson."
A little while later and a level above the Crew Deck, Miranda was frowning back at her image in the mirror. After another quick rinse, she'd taken a closer look at the other clothes the serviceman had brought up the previous night, inspecting her options. She eventually settled on the officer's style uniform.
The design of the garments themselves wasn't the problem. The updated women's Alliance officer's uniform in its dark, midnight blue with black trim was surprisingly stylish. The pants were a much slimmer cut than the standard BDUs and afforded good range of motion. The matching, extended length smock zipped up the front, ending in a deep V-neck and had a fashionable high collar. The material was of exceptionally good quality, as well, incorporating the latest nano-fiber technologies, offering added protection for the wearer, especially when the compatible personal barrier modules were connected. It wasn't true combat armor by any means, but was still far more resilient than a standard set of fatigues or dress blues.
No, the clothes weren't bad at all. The issue was that this particular uniform was tailored for an entirely different woman. Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams's figure wasn't drastically dissimilar from hers, but Miranda wasn't accustomed to settling for anything less than perfection when it came to the fit of her attire.
For instance, the Marine's thighs were just a bit thicker while her hips were a touch narrower. Miranda was also a good inch and half taller than Williams, making the sleeves of the top shorter than she would prefer. Even still, it was a far superior option than the standard Navy BDUs. She'd taken one look at the baggy, camouflage cargo pants, oversized belt, and matching utility shirt and immediately tossed them aside.
She was making one final attempt to press down the ends of the shirt, trying to keep the sides from flaring out too much over her shapely hips, when her eyes lingered a moment on the insignia of the Systems Alliance stenciled over her left breast. It wasn't the first time she'd worn a uniform displaying the emblem, but it was the first time she'd displayed it in good faith and not while impersonating an officer during one Cerberus black op or another. Looking at that arch and stars design made her immediately think of the offer Shepard had extended to her the previous night.
Resuming her old role of Executive Officer aboard the ship was an extraordinarily tempting proposition. In fact, the concept had been tugging at her pride all morning. Miranda would have liked nothing more than to transport herself back in time, back to when she and Shepard had led a crew of their own choosing across the galaxy, hunting the Collectors and chasing leads on the Reapers.
And she was desperate to help him now, there was no hesitancy about that. But so much had changed. The Normandy no longer flew Cerberus colors and was now crewed by men and women that would distrust her immediately. Shepard would no doubt try to head that sort of thing off before it was allowed to take root and grow, but she wouldn't be able to blame any of them for viewing her with a certain level of suspicion. After all, her past was a checkered one, littered with clear examples of her efforts to subvert the Alliance and advance its key competitor's interests. And thanks to the Illusive Man, many of those previously unknown missions, including a few of the uglier ones, had been exposed to the public's eye. It would be the most natural thing in the world for this crew to look at her as a dangerous outsider.
But Shepard was also right about her immediate prospects on the Citadel. The heightened alert status on the station, paired with the renewed interest in bringing her to justice, made her return there an enormous impracticality. Miranda was certainly confident that she could evade the various Alliance security entities, as well as C-Sec, but as long as the warrants for her arrest were active she simply could no longer operate effectively on behalf of Anita Goyle. It would be pointless to go back now.
And even if that wasn't the case, there remained the simple, inescapable truth that she was utterly unwilling to leave his side. Not now. Not after all the months apart. Not after all that she'd been through to get back to this point. Her presence onboard the Normandy may present some awkward obstacles to navigate, but the selfish part of her, the part that loved the man with every ounce of her being, was not about to see her separated from him.
Finally accepting the uniform for what it was, Miranda turned to leave but then paused again, her vision drifting up to the half-healed wound above her eye. Thanks to her superior genetic makeup, the laceration was already mending well. Still, she hadn't abandoned her vanity so much that she wanted to needlessly risk permanent scarring in such a noticeable place. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she decided there was no need to delay further. Straightening her shirt one last time, smoothing out the sides with her hands, she promptly exited Shepard's quarters, hit the call button for the elevator, and stepped into the car a few seconds later.
Descending to Deck Three, Miranda took an immediate left out of the lift and strode directly toward the Med Bay. Glancing to her left, she noticed that a group of the former Cerberus scientists were dining in the Mess. A lone Marine sentry, complete with sidearm, was standing nearby, monitoring the group from a discrete distance. She offered a polite nod to a few of the researchers that had looked up to meet her gaze but didn't stop.
The doors to Medical then parted automatically for her as she approached, revealing one of the few compartments on the Normandy that appeared nearly identical to its state prior to the Alliance Navy seizure and subsequent retrofit. Miranda noticed that Doctor Chakwas was sitting at the desk on the left, her back to the door, busy typing out a report of some kind on her terminal. Another man dressed in an Alliance Navy medical officer's uniform was standing farther off in the corner, sorting through a tray of trauma supplies. She recognized him as the other medic that had met the refugees in the Shuttle Bay after the extraction from Gellix. He glanced in her direction when she entered, flicked his eyes over toward where the doctor was sitting, and then promptly returned his attention back to his task.
Hearing the door open, Karin Chakwas swiveled her chair around to face her visitor. She gave a momentary look of surprise, taking in Miranda's unexpected appearance, before a welcoming smile spread across her face. "Miss Lawson, what a pleasure to see you," she said. "But never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined you in that particular uniform."
Miranda glanced down at herself. "Not exactly my usual attire, is it?"
"No, it certainly is not," Chakwas said, standing up from her chair. "Though, in all honestly, a look that I think suits you just fine."
Miranda made a noncommittal noise and shrugged. "Perhaps. Though, it's really only out of necessity. And I'll need to make some alterations." She tugged on the ends of the shirt again. "As soon as humanly possible."
Chakwas laughed softly and nodded. "Of course," she said. "Anyway, I'm happy that you decided to come to see me so soon. Please, come over here and have a seat so I can have a look at you." She motioned toward the closest medical bed and then looked over toward the Med Tech. "Lieutenant Mallory, would you mind giving us a bit of privacy? Why don't you drop in on our guests on Deck Four and ensure that they're comfortable and the children are still doing well."
"Of course, mum," he said in a thick English accent, putting down the datapad he'd been holding and grabbing a nearby medical supply kit. He gave a polite smile and a nod to the women as he passed and exited the compartment.
Miranda glanced back as the door closed behind the Lieutenant and then looked at Chakwas. "He's quite handsome," she said, smiling.
Chakwas groaned. "And I'm old enough to be his mother," she said and chuckled lightly. "But he's a decorated spaceborne emergency medical officer. He was injured during a skirmish with some batarians along the frontier some months back and ended up on the Citadel while I was attending. They assigned him to my staff while he was recovering, light duty during his recuperation and all that. But after the Reapers hit, his unit was already far afield. Knowing how much fire the Normandy tends to take, I asked him to join us. He didn't need much convincing after I told him that Shepard was commanding. I think he's eager to be back in the action."
"I'm sure he'll have an opportunity before long."
"Indeed," Chakwas said. "Now, have a seat, dear." She patted the top of the medical bed with her hand.
Miranda gave a slight tip of her head before taking a seat on the end of the bed. The doctor stepped back over to her desk, retrieved a handheld medical scanner, and then waved her hand over a holo-sensor. The observation windows that lined the walls of the Medical Bay instantly shifted from their standard transparent state to an impenetrable opaque, affording them total privacy. At the same time, a small light above the hatchway switched from green to red, signaling the door had been locked to prevent anyone from wandering in unannounced from the Crew Deck beyond.
Chakwas then approached Miranda and carefully brushed her hair to the side with one hand while she raised the medical scanning device to her forehead with the other. "I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds when I say that you look particularly radiant this morning, Miss Lawson," she said as she waved the device back and forth. "I don't need to be a medical professional to recognize that your reunion with Captain Shepard has done wonders for you both."
Miranda blushed and cleared her throat. "Yes, it's certainly nice to be back on board the Normandy."
Chakwas made an approving sound, glancing at the scan's readout. "There's hardly a thing I need to do with this," she said. "Still, I'll apply another light dose of dermal regenerative compound to ensure there's absolutely no risk of permanent scarring." She extracted a small vial from her lab coat and affixed an applicator tip. "It never ceases to amaze me, your incredible powers of immunity and natural healing abilities."
"I don't know if I'd necessarily categorize that as natural, Doctor."
Karin made a face, signaling she didn't necessarily agree. "Of course," she said. "Still, it's quite remarkable. Both you and the Captain seem capable of defying just about every standard baseline of human health and vitality. Your anatomies really are quite nearly perfect."
Miranda shifted uncomfortably for the briefest of moments. However, the gesture was revealing enough.
"I apologize, Miranda," Karin said. "That was terribly insensitive of me. Please forgive me."
Miranda waved it away. "Please, its fine, Karin. I'm no delicate waif who needs coddling. I came to terms with my condition some time ago."
"That may be true, but I want you to know that I haven't forgotten about our conversation. In fact, it's something of a pet project of mine."
"Really? With all that's happened?" She said. "Honestly Karin, it's an awfully selfish thing for my infertility issues to monopolize any of your valuable time."
"Nonsense," Chakwas said, applying the clear dermal regenerative compound to Miranda's forehead. "Do you see any wounded soldiers around here? I fear I'll be drowning in trauma cases before this war gets much older, but right now, that's clearly not the case. Besides, much of the research I did on your condition took place while I was attending on the Citadel." She placed a hand on Miranda's knee and gave her a stern look. "And it's not selfish, Miss Lawson. Far from it, in fact. The very future of our species hangs in the balance. I've seen the initial casualty numbers as well as the projections. We are going to lose hundreds of millions of human lives—probably billions—before this horrific conflict is settled. If you look at the situation clinically, there can be no arguing the fact that if our species is to endure, we are going to have to get busy making babies." She gave a kind smile. "And personally, I cannot think of two better people to contribute to that process than you and Captain Shepard."
Miranda blushed again. "Doctor," she scolded her playfully. The idea of settling down and starting a family was a fantasy that she rarely allowed herself to indulge in. However, she couldn't honestly say that she hadn't allowed her mind to wander along that path once or twice.
Chakwas shrugged and smiled knowingly. "There," she said, "That should do nicely." She gently rubbed her finger against Miranda's temple, smoothing out the substance, allowing her skin to fully absorb it. "I expect there won't be a trace of a scar by tomorrow evening."
"Thank you, Karin," Miranda said, starting to get up from the bed.
The doctor placed a hand on Miranda's shoulder, her grip surprisingly strong, beckoning her to stay. "Wait, before you're off, Miss Lawson," she said. "I've become aware of the damage you sustained to your biotic abilities. I have extensive experience with the treatment of biotic individuals and the care of their corresponding implants. If you'd consent to it, I'd like to conduct a quick examination and see if I can assist with your treatment."
Miranda hesitated for a moment before nodding. Over the last few months, she'd become relatively accustomed to living without the use of her biotics. A part of her had even become resigned to the possibility that she might never regain her ability to safely wield her once extraordinary powers. Even still, she was willing to allow Doctor Chakwas to do what she could. After all, she'd personally vetted the doctor prior to her recruitment to Cerberus and was well aware of the woman's expertise in the field.
"Of course," she said. "But I don't believe there's been any actual damage to my implant, Karin. The SAIS subjected me to an inhibiting drug therapy while I was held captive. I've since learned that it was a derivative of a Cerberus-developed compound, Omega-Enkaphalin. But its potency had clearly been amplified by the Intelligence Service doctors."
Chakwas nodded slowly. "I see," she said, extracting a datapad from her lab coat pocket. "And I understand Professor Solus synthesized a treatment for you. Are you still taking it?"
"Yes. Mordin had thought that as my body purged the residual traces of the drug, my enhanced immune system would repair and regulate the damaged neural pathways between my brain and eezo nodules. His serum was designed to assist in that process while alleviating the side effects I experienced from the SAIS drug."
The doctor was furiously tapping out notes on her datapad. "What were the symptoms you were experiencing?"
"Nausea, dizziness, extreme headaches, loss of sensation in my fingers and toes, some emotional instability."
Chakwas glanced up from the tablet for a moment and met Miranda's gaze. "And are you still taking Mordin's treatment?"
"Yes. Originally, three times daily. I'm down to a once daily dose now," Miranda reached into the slim pocket at the side of her shirt and produced a small, multi-injector compatible vial and handed it to Chakwas.
The doctor's eyes narrowed as she took the object and held it out in front of her. She then quickly stepped over to the counter, placed the vial in a slot beneath a medical scope, and bent over to look through the viewer, keying in several commands on the nearby touchpad. After a few moments, Chakwas stood upright again and began pulling various instruments from a drawer. "Alright, let's get you under the diagnostic scanner, shall we? Please remove your top and trousers. You can leave your underwear on. There's a gown on the table you can wear if you like."
Miranda glanced to her right, spotting the folded medical exam gown and frowned. "No, that's fine, Karin." She then pulled off her boots one by one before jumping off the bed, slipping out of her pants, and unzipping the smock. She folded and placed her clothes on the adjacent bed, leaving her boots on the floor nearby.
Chakwas looked over and smiled benignly. "Go ahead and lay back down here, Miranda," she said, gesturing to the bed beneath the large, ceiling-mounted diagnostic scanner.
Miranda gave a nod before sliding her body onto the bed and lying on her back with her hands clasped together over her belly button. Next to her, Chakwas was entering more commands onto the medical scanner's interface, manipulating the device's robotic arm into position.
"I enjoyed meeting Oriana yesterday," Chakwas said as she continued to prep the equipment. "She's quite a lovely girl. And just a sharp as her sister, I'd say."
Miranda smiled. "She's also a bit of a handful."
"Oh, I don't doubt that. But it's wonderful that you two have been able to stay close together during all this madness."
The medical scanner made several full passes over Miranda's body, moving smoothly overhead, tracking from her feet to her head. Satisfied with the scans, Doctor Chakwas keyed another command to move the diagnostic arm back to its locked position and leaned over another terminal to examine the results. "The element zero nodules within your tissue and situated around the nerve clusters look undamaged, but there's definitely something unusual about how they're absorbing and reacting to the latent bio-electrical impulses from your brain. I can also easily see how Mordin's treatment is helping minimize the effects, smoothing out the unstable reactions and helping the energy to dissipate harmlessly." She paused, looking more intently at the readout. "Wait, this can't be right. You're biotic implant looks like an L3 model but I don't see any indication that you underwent post-adolescent brain surgery."
Miranda turned her head on the pillow to look over at Chakwas. "It's actually a proprietary design manufactured by my father's bio-engineering division, developed in collaboration with Binary Helix. This particular model was the prototype for the L3, but is roughly seventeen percent more efficient and significantly more powerful than the revision the Alliance eventually commissioned for production. It's not exactly unique, but certainly exotic and quite rare."
"Remarkable," Chakwas said. "I had no idea. Well, you're right about its integrity. I don't detect any trouble with the implant at all. We can run a few non-invasive diagnostics on it, but I doubt we'll discover anything useful." She exhaled. "You can go ahead and sit up now, dear. I'll just take a blood sample and we'll be finished."
Miranda sat upright on the edge of the bed while the doctor collected a syringe from the nearby tray of instruments. Chakwas then took gentle hold of her outstretched arm and with an expert, practiced motion, plunged the thin needle into her vein, extracting the blood sample. "There," she said, "That should do." She disconnected the vial from the extracting syringe and placed it on the tray. "Give me some time to review the results and we'll see what we can do."
"Thank you, Doctor," Miranda said, reaching over to gather her clothes from the other bed.
"Just one more moment please, Miss Lawson," the doctor said. She then placed one hand on Miranda's shoulder and felt around the back of her neck with the other until she found the small area of raised scar tissue at the base of her skull. "Yes, there it is." Chakwas met her patient's eyes and spoke with a compassionate voice. "Why don't you let me take care of this, dear? The procedure would be quick and simple."
Miranda moved her hand to the back of her neck, touching the spot as if it was the first time, remembering the day she'd awoken in the SAIS black site cell and discovered the small interface device that had been crudely imbedded into her flesh. "Oh… That's alright, Karin," she said, averting her eyes. "Really, I hardly notice it. It's not something you need to worry about."
Chakwas frowned and took a half step back, her expression thoughtful. She was beginning to say something else when the door to the Server Room slid open and Liara emerged from inside the adjacent compartment. She looked exhausted, half in a daze, and was rubbing her eyes with her palms.
"My god, Liara," Chakwas said. "Have you been in there all night?"
Liara looked momentarily startled before her eyes refocused and settled on the two human women. "Miranda, are you unwell?" she said.
"Just a routine check-up," Chakwas said matter-of-factly, smiling.
"Oh," Liara said, looking uncertain. "Well, I apologize for intruding. I'll give you your privacy."
"No, it's fine," Miranda said sharply. "We're finished." She wasn't entirely certain if asari could blush, but that appeared to be precisely Liara's reaction upon stumbling in on her exam. She suddenly regretted the decision to forego the gown but took the opportunity to slip off the bed past Chakwas and gather her clothes, refusing to feel embarrassed. "Did you have any luck with transport?"
"Yes, in fact," Liara said. She was making an effort to politely overt her eyes while Miranda pulled her trousers back on. "I was able to arrange for a freighter originating from the Asgard system to meet us as we pass through Serpent. I've already fabricated transit records that indicate the ship is transporting refugees from Terra Nova. I just sent the information up to Shepard and the helm."
Miranda nodded, putting her arms through the sleeves of her shirt and zipping up the front. "Excellent," she said. "Thank you, Liara."
"Of course," she said, looking more directly at Miranda now that she was once again fully dressed. "The ship is operated by some very reliable agents. But I don't have a solution for the scientists' cover stories. And I'm afraid those people are going to stick out awfully bad with so many of them wearing matching uniforms and jump suits."
"Anita and I can handle that. After the transfer, we'll arrange for suitable clothing and supplies to be delivered to the vessel before they disembark and are processed through security. I'll be generating their cover identities myself, before we meet the freighter. Everything should be ready to upload by the time we're in range of the Citadel networks."
"Well, it sounds like you two very capable ladies have everything in hand," Chakwas said. "We're still quite a distance out from Citadel space, Liara. You need to rest. Don't force me to sedate you."
Liara gave a tired smile. "No need for that, Doctor," she said. "I'm going straight to my quarters now." She nodded to Miranda and Chakwas and left the Medical Bay.
"Thank you again, Karin," Miranda said, straightening her uniform. "For everything."
Chakwas smiled. "We'll figure all this out, Miranda. I'm confident the answers are out there."
Miranda exited out onto the Crew Deck, pausing just outside the door. She looked over at the Mess Hall, noting the central common area was significantly more crowded than it had been before she'd entered Medical. There must have been a recent duty shift change. The scientists and their escort were gone, having cleared out before the influx of regular crew members.
She stood there in the corner for several moments, observing the dozen or so Alliance Navy men and women queueing up at the kitchen before finding spots at the tables. Shepard was right. Most of them looked terribly young and inexperienced. They were just kids, really.
Among the crowd, she was a little surprised to spot two familiar faces, Gabriella Daniels and Kenneth Donnelly. Save for their Navy uniforms, the engineers looked exactly as she remembered when she'd hand-picked them to run the department on board the new Normandy. Miranda watched them as they bantered back and forth and exchanged nods with some of the other crew members, getting in line for their meal. They had been among the fortunate of the Cerberus crew when the SAIS had raided the ship. Their Alliance backgrounds, along with Karin's and Moreau's, had saved them from the interrogations and torture she and the others had been subjected to.
They had abandoned the Alliance more than two years ago, opting to pursue careers with Cerberus and follow Commander Shepard as he and the others set out to do something meaningful and proactive about the Collector threat. But now they had returned to the fold, welcomed back into the family they had shunned—and that had shunned them. Looking at them now, Miranda realized that Shepard must have pulled some strings to have them back on the Normandy so soon.
Her situation was nothing like Gabby and Ken's. She had an extensive history of actively working against the Systems Alliance. An enemy combatant. An infamous covert agent. A known assassin. But this ship was as much her home now as theirs. Or, for that matter, as any of the fresh-faced Navy crew members that looked to Captain Shepard for leadership and guidance. She could help with that. She could help him put things right.
She raised her arm and keyed her Omni-tool, linking to the ship's internal comm network. "EDI, please locate Captain Shepard."
"Shepard is currently on Deck Two, within his ready room, Miss Lawson."
"Thank you, EDI."
"My pleasure, Miranda. Logging you out."
When Miranda arrived a few minutes later, she found Shepard sitting behind the desk inside his ready room, studying something on a datapad, and wearing a profound look of frustration.
He looked up distractedly as he heard her enter, his face morphing from an annoyed frown to an admiring grin in an instant. His mouth opened slightly and his smile grew wider as he took in Miranda's appearance.
"No more commentary on my attire, Shepard," she said. "Really, it's growing tiresome."
He laughed softly. "Aye, aye, ma'am."
Miranda sighed. "I'll do it," she said. "I'll resume my place as your XO."
Shepard put the datapad down and stood up, walking around to the front of the desk.
"Wait," she said, holding up a hand to stop him as he drew near. "I have some conditions."
He gave an interested look, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the edge of the desk. "I'm listening."
"As you alluded to last night, my service aboard will be temporary. Eventually, Williams will be ready to resume her duties and I agree that you should see to it that she's welcomed back." She put her hand up again to stop him from interrupting. "It's vital that you maintain your standing with the Alliance. Things are going to get very difficult and politically messy as this war carries on and I won't allow you to make any more enemies than you already have. And certainly not on my account. We can get away with this for a time, but it's simply not a sustainable option. And no, that's not open for debate."
He frowned. "Alright, but—"
"I'm not finished. While the time will come for me to step down from this position, I want you to allow Oriana to remain on board. My father is still clearly obsessed with reacquiring her and there are few places in this galaxy beyond his reach. The Normandy is one of those places. She won't be a burden. In fact, I believe she can make a valuable contribution to the ship."
"I don't doubt that for a minute, Miranda," Shepard said. "And of course she can stay. I don't need to see anything more from her than I already have to know she can handle herself. But it doesn't have to be just her." He stepped closer to her and took her hands within his. "Even if—or when—you step down as XO, there's a place for you here. I don't want you going far. I don't want to lose you again. I can't."
Miranda gave a sad smile, as if she foresaw some future tragedy. "And I wouldn't want to leave you again, John," she said in a quiet voice. "But eventually, we're going to have to figure out what my father is doing for Cerberus. You can't divert the ship for that purpose. The missions you'll be tasked with will be far too important and the Normandy is much too conspicuous. It would simply be impractical to chase something like that. But it's very different for me. In fact, it has to be me."
He looked back at her for a long moment before sighing heavily. "I'm not thrilled about that idea, but we can put it aside for now. Did you have something specific in mind for Oriana?"
She smiled softly, allowing her fingers to intertwine with his. They were only a few inches apart now. "Not yet. Once I have a closer look at your crew roster and determine where the most pressing shortfalls are, I can better assess where she'll be most useful. She may be young, but she has highly advanced aptitudes in a number of areas, she's cool under pressure, and she's an incredibly fast learner."
Shepard smiled again. "Just like her sister," he said. "And she's really no younger than your average second year academy cadet. I'm not concerned about that. But does she know about any of this?"
"No, not yet. But I'll go find her right away and bring her up to speed. It'll be her choice, of course, but I have a feeling she'll jump at the opportunity. She's grown close to Anita and enjoys the Citadel, but she has an explorer's mentality at heart. She craves seeking out new places and meeting new people."
"You know we'll be heading into the hottest combat zones there are. You're not worried about putting her in more danger?"
"I worry about her every day, Shepard. But despite that, this ship is probably the safest place she could be. I know how resilient the Normandy is and I have a fair amount of confidence in her captain," she said, giving an ironic grin. "I can't hide her on some far-flung colony world. There's no telling where the Reapers will strike next. Even the Citadel is a precarious place for her. Besides, we've moved past all that now. She wouldn't have it."
He nodded slowly. "What about Kolyat and Kasumi?"
She shook her head. "I'm going to send them back to the Citadel with the scientists. My status there may be compromised, but they can still do much to assist Ambassador Goyle." She paused, taking a breath. "I was going to ask Zaeed if he'd consent go with them, as well, stay on and help with the operation."
"Oh yeah?"
"I still find that man repulsive, Shepard. But I can't deny he brings a certain quality to the team. We can use his muscle and underworld savvy there."
Shepard nodded slowly before his hand found its way to the small of her back and started to pull her in closer. "I hereby consent to all of your conditions, Miss Lawson."
She put a hand on his chest, keeping him at a distance. "There's one more thing. This uniform," she said, glancing down at herself. "I'll require some flexibility in that department. This borrowed outfit will have to do for now, but I don't intend to walk around in another woman's clothes for long. Once we have access to an adequate depot or way station, I'll be acquiring something more suitable to my style."
He smiled wider. "I can't wait," he said, finally succeeding in pulling her into his arms.
"You ass," she said before giving in to his embrace, kissing him tenderly. "And this sort of thing stays behind closed doors, John. It won't take the crew long to realize their XO is sleeping with the captain, but best not to advertise it so overtly. It will do neither of us any good at all."
"I won't tell if you won't," he said and then tapped the nearby intercom button. "Traynor, see me in my ready room please. Right away."
Miranda gave him a look and pushed him away, quickly straightening her clothes. He smiled back at her and winked, clearly relishing playing the scoundrel.
The Comm Specialist walked in a moment later, an uncertain look on her face. She glanced at Miranda and swallowed before straightening her posture and saluting the Captain. "Sir," she said. "You wanted to see me."
"At ease, Specialist," Shepard said. "We've been over this. We follow a more relaxed protocol on this ship. You need only salute me in formal settings, and those are going to be few and far in-between anyway."
She relaxed her stance, allowing her feet to spread wider and clasped her hands behind her back. "Yes, sir. Sorry sir."
"No need to apologize, Traynor. I need you to call a command staff meeting, one hour from now."
"Aye, sir. I'll make the arrangements straightaway."
"All department heads, including Major Vakarian and Doctor T'Soni. And you too."
She blinked. "Me, Captain? But, I'm not an officer."
"I'm aware of your rank, Traynor. But you're also acting as the primary watch at a critical post. Comms and Internal Ops needs to be in the loop on all the ship's important business. And, technically, you're in charge of that department. Remember, you wanted this. You asked to remain onboard." He gave her an encouraging smile. "And I'm glad that you did. You're doing an outstanding job under incredibly difficult circumstances. But with your skillsets, you're also being underutilized. I'll need you to do more. I've seen your applied scores from the Tech Academy and your reviews from Yeager. To say that they're excellent would be a colossal understatement. You're more than capable of handling this responsibility. So have the second watch cover you and be at the meeting."
Traynor nodded, but then looked hesitant, giving a quick glance over at Miranda again. She was standing a little off to the side, her arms crossed and her weight shifted to one leg, eyeing the Specialist with interest.
"It's alright, Traynor. You can speak freely in front of Miss Lawson."
She cleared her throat. "Well, that's just it, sir," she said. "Serviceman O'Hara is fine to man the post for short periods and when it's quiet, but Comm Ops isn't his specialty. He only has that position out of necessity. There's no one else that can mind the store for long stretches of time other than me."
"Right," Shepard said, frowning. "I should have known that. But don't worry. We'll get you some more support moving forward. Dismissed, Traynor."
"Aye, sir," she said, turning on her heel and exiting the office."
"She's an interesting one," Miranda said after the door had slid closed.
"I like her. And I think she fits in just about perfectly around here," he said. "I wasn't exaggerating about her aptitude scores. They're off the charts. You'll see when you take a look at her records."
Miranda nodded. "Well, I think we have a suitable position for Oriana to assist with."
"I was thinking the same thing."
"What were you looking at when I came in?" she said, indicating the datapad resting on the desk. "You were clearly struggling with something."
He sighed. "Diplomatic guidelines and customs for the dealing with the Salarian Union," he said, shaking his head. "It's not exactly my strong suit."
She raised an eyebrow. "You don't say. Give it here."
Shepard obeyed, handing her the datapad.
She narrowed her gaze at the screen and scrolled rapidly through several pages. "I'll handle the preparations and make sure you know the proper occasions to bow," she said. "You're hopeless with this sort of diplomatic nuance. Just make sure you're ready to handle the krogan delegation. Once we put them all in an enclosed space, things are liable to get volatile if one of the salarians provokes them."
"Wrex will be okay," he said, pausing. "Probably."
She rolled her eyes. "Do you want to go over the ship's status now, prioritize my duties before the staff meeting?"
"Actually, there's something I want you to see first. Let's grab Doctor Cole and head down to the Shuttle Bay."
Several minutes later, Shepard and Miranda found Doctor Cole on the Engineering deck and together quickly made their way down to the Shuttle Bay. Off in the far, port-side corner, close to heavy ramp door and away from the shuttles and the other heavy equipment, stood the blast-proof ordnance crate that held the Cerberus android.
Shepard approached the large eight-by-four foot hardened crate, gave a nod to Private Westmoreland, who was taking her turn standing guard next to it, and tapped out a code on the container's integrated keypad. The heavy locking mechanism then disengaged, releasing a burst of trapped air, before the armored top slid up and to the side.
Doctor Cole stepped closer, peering into the container, and then gasped. "What is this, Captain?" she said, her tone uneasy.
Shepard approached, putting his hand on the edge, and immediately understood Cole's reaction. When he and Vega had thrown the Cerberus android into the container after subduing it on Mars, its synthetic tissue had been largely scorched away from its face, revealing the smooth, metallic alloys beneath. One of its artificial eyes had also been badly ruined and most of its shoulder-length blonde hair burned away.
But now, aside from some subtle discoloration on the right side of its face, it looked virtually identical to when they had first encountered the synthetic human female known as Eva Coré in the Archives facility. Both its eyes were whole again and its silky blonde hair had been somehow regrown. The android's clothing was still badly shredded and charred, revealing the artificial flesh beneath, but otherwise it looked indistinguishable from the attractive woman it was built to replicate. In fact, as Shepard looked down at it in dismay, he couldn't help but think that it appeared almost serene, like some sort of sleeping beauty they'd stumbled upon.
"This is not the state she was in when we secured it in the crate," he said. "It's a highly advanced android, sent by Cerberus to infiltrate the Mars Archives and extract critical Prothean data." He tapped his comm unit. "EDI, are you seeing this?"
"Affirmative, Shepard," EDI said, her voice coming through one of the numerous speakers situated throughout the ship. "And I do not have an immediate explanation for the android's condition. It appears to have spontaneously regenerated its synthetic-organic tissues and hair. My scans of the entity revealed that it was completely dormant at the time of its arrival on board, but I can now detect a very low-level power signature within its core. The energy it's emitting is harmless and nowhere near the levels sufficient enough to reanimate it. But it does appear to be the catalyst for its remarkable healing abilities."
"Send the footage we captured on Mars and of the android's extraction to Miranda and Doctor Cole's Omni-tools."
"Yes, Shepard. Video and audio data transferred."
Miranda and Brynn activated their Omni-tools and quickly watched the holo-vid data of the encounter with the android and the logged files on its transport to the Normandy. After a minute, Cole glanced up at Shepard. "I've met this woman before," she said. She reached down and touched its face but then pulled her hand away quickly, startled.
"Careful, Doctor," Shepard said. "This thing put one of my officers in a comatose state."
Cole looked at him, her expression something between the curiosity of a scientist and the horror of a frightened child. "The skin is warm," she said. "And it's breathing."
Shepard placed his hands on the edge of the container and looked closer. Cole was right. The android's chest was slowly rising and falling, simulating a human's breathing. It sent a chill down his spine.
Miranda was at Shepard's side, gazing down at the android. "We should get rid of it, John," she said. "We should jettison it out to space."
Cole looked from Miranda to Shepard. "The Illusive Man introduced me to her, himself. She had been one of his top assistants. He said her name was Coré. I had no suspicion whatsoever that it was a synthetic being. It's a perfect human replica."
Shepard pushed away from the edge of the crate and faced Cole. "Would any of your colleagues have more insight into how this android was created?"
"I don't know… Perhaps Doctor Sengupta. He's a geneticist and also was heavily involved in synthetic tissue research. And Professor Chang was part of the team that studied recovered Collector power sources. If its regeneration capabilities are as effective as you suggest, I'd venture it possesses similar self-sustaining technologies."
Shepard nodded. "I need you to find out what you can before we transport your people back to the Citadel. This android was a perfect infiltrator for Cerberus. I need to know if there's more of them out there and what we can do to detect them."
"Of course, Captain. We'll do everything we can to help." Cole gave a nod to them both, flicked her eyes to the prone android woman one last time, and set off back across the flight deck, toward the elevator.
Shepard watched her leave and then looked at Miranda. Her eyes were still fixed on the android laying inside the crate. "What are you thinking?"
"You've seen the report of what we encountered on Arcturus Station. The Reaper-augmented man that I killed there, the one collaborating with the SAIS. It wasn't dissimilar from this android. Just like Eva Coré, there were no obvious outward signs of its incredible strength and resilience. The threat of indoctrinated agents infiltrating our ranks is one thing, but this is something even more disturbing." She looked at Shepard. "If both the Reapers and Cerberus can imitate organic beings in such a convincing way, what's to say they don't eventually move to replace someone of significant influence with one of these creatures? What if they already have?"
Shepard stared at her for a long moment, deep in thought, before turning his gaze back to the android. "She" looked at peace, resting almost serenely within the armored container. There was a delicate beauty to her features, as well. It was in stark contrast to the memory of the synthetic woman that was seared in his mind, the image of the charred android effortlessly lifting Ashley from her feet and driving her head into the side of the ruined shuttle.
He reached over to the command panel, keyed in the locking code, and watched as the heavy blast-proof lid slid shut once again.
With the extensive refit of Deck Two largely aimed toward accommodating the new Strategic Operations and Command Center, or, what most of the crew were referring to as the War Room, the Normandy's briefing room had been moved from the center of the deck to the starboard side. The conference space was roughly the same size as the previous, Cerberus-designed room, but was enclosed by walls of clear, tempered glass with a hip-level railing bordering the adjacent corridor. With half a dozen deployment crates and various exposed conduits cluttering the surrounding area, the room looked as if its inclusion had almost been an afterthought on the part of the Alliance designers.
Miranda had seen it the previous day, passing through the area with Shepard before speaking with Anita over the QEC terminal. Now, looking at the space again reaffirmed her initial opinion on the new room—she hated it. It was perfectly functional, but it also looked remarkably like a cage, as if some exotic animal ought to be on display within the glass box. It was yet another example of the Alliance's utter ineptitude when it came to aesthetics.
At the very least, Miranda noted, they had been wise enough to retain the original conference table. It was an elegantly designed piece, with authentic, polished hardwood inlayed on the top surface and multiple data terminals situated along the edges. It would have been a shame to have seen it simply tossed into the scrapyard along with so much of the other Cerberus-designed components.
Shepard and Miranda walked into the conference room together, finding the rest of the command staff and key department heads already present. Some faces were more familiar than others, but she recognized everyone. The burly Lieutenant Vega was there, as was Jeff Moreau, Doctor Chakwas, and the pilot that had flown the Dragonfly on Gellix, Lieutenant Cortez. Also in attendance was the chief engineer, Greg Adams, and the Ensign she'd seen manning the primary Tactical station in the CIC. His name was Riley, she saw from the tag above his left breast pocket. Finally, standing off in one corner of the room with a Comm device in her ear, was Specialist Traynor.
Garrus and Liara were there, as well, having already been accepted as legitimate authority figures and members of the crew. It figured. They were both enormously capable in a number of different disciplines and, individually, projected an effortless charisma that eased their integration into new groups. Miranda knew her acceptance on board the Alliance warship wouldn't come nearly as organically or smoothly.
Miranda took up position at one end of the long table next to Shepard, mindful not to stand too close. Scanning the room, she made a point to try and meet everyone's eyes. Traynor was glancing around the room uncomfortably, looking as if she could shrink farther into the corner at any moment. Chakwas and Joker were both smiling at her, but with very different sorts of expressions. She caught Vega staring at her chest for what seemed liked the twentieth time since she'd arrived on board. He finally looked away when he caught the withering glare she was sending him in response. And to the Lieutenant's left, Chief Adams was staring back at her with an intense look of suspicion, making little effort to conceal his discomfort with her presence.
"Alright, people," Shepard began. "We've got a full agenda, so let's get started. EDI, begin recording now, please. I want full transparency for all staff meetings and everything noted properly in the logs."
"Understood, Captain Shepard," EDI said through the room's concealed intercom speakers. The ship's AI was an ever-present participant. "Transcription underway. All attendees noted in the ship's log."
"Thank you, EDI," Shepard said. He then surveyed the faces of his staff, taking a brief moment before beginning. "As you all know, Lieutenant Commander Williams is still recovering from her injuries on the Citadel and won't be ready to return to active duty for at least another few weeks. In the meantime, we've been forced to continue operating the Normandy with the bare minimum of its intended crew complement, exasperating the absence of an Executive Officer. I know you've all felt the strain of that over these first few weeks of the war.
"You're all also aware that this vessel is operating under a very unique dual Alliance-Council mandate, granting considerable freedom when it comes to the personnel accepted into our ranks. Official membership within the Alliance Navy is not a requirement for those deemed to be vital contributors to our mission. The integration of both Major Vakarian and Doctor T'Soni on board is a testament to the value that flexibility offers the Normandy. With that precedent in mind, I'm announcing the appointment of Miranda Lawson to the post of Executive Officer and my second in command. She will hold the position until Commander Williams is fit to return. I expect you all to extend her the same level of professionalism and respect as you do to me. She speaks with my voice and her orders are issued with my authority. For those of you unfamiliar with Miss Lawson, I think you'll find her fair, highly attentive to the crew's needs, and exceedingly familiar with the Normandy's systems and capabilities. She has considerable experience with this particular role, onboard this very ship, in fact."
There were no murmurs of dissent or whispers of surprise after Shepard made his announcement. The people in the room respected their Captain far too much and were too disciplined for that sort of inappropriate outburst. But Miranda wasn't oblivious to the likely unpopularity of her appointment to a position of authority. She looked again at the faces of her new staff, getting the measure of them.
Those who had worked for her before offered respectful nods and smiles. Chakwas was beaming and Garrus even gave her a wink, which caught her a little off guard. Then her gaze fell once again on Chief Adams. The man's face was turning beet red and he looked like he'd swallowed something bitter. She offered no reaction to his palpable dissatisfaction, keeping her own expression unreadable.
She could appreciate the man's reaction. The assistance he had provided her and Jack on Arcturus was certainly delivered somewhat reluctantly. He was a career Navy man and accustomed to operating within strict guidelines and to following rules prescribed by legitimate figures of authority. The sudden arrival of her covert team on the station and the unconventional orders he'd received by way of Admiral Anderson had put him in a clear state of unease. And after they'd successfully stopped the attack, Miranda hadn't had the opportunity to follow-up with Adams after they had been forced to leave him unconscious in the Normandy's Med Bay. It had been regrettable, leaving him in that condition, but time had been at the essence and his commitment to helping them seemed in danger of faltering. It was obvious now she would have to deal with the issue soon and find a way to diffuse the hostility the engineer felt toward her.
After the initial announcement, Shepard went on to cover a range of other topics with the staff. He focused much of the time on potential issues around the upcoming War Summit, reinforcing the need for heightened levels of security and the observance of more formalized shipboard protocols while they hosted the various delegations. But he also announced that they would be off-loading the refugees from Gellix while they passed through the Serpent Nebula and stressed the highly classified nature of the transfer.
Garrus contributed by providing some insight into the turian war front and Liara, armed with the extensive intelligence resources of the Shadow Broker network, brought the group up to speed on everything she knew about the current state of the various major human colonies. Details on surviving Alliance Navy assets, the situation on Earth, and on Reaper fleet movements were still highly fragmented, but Shepard offered as much information as he could.
Finally, he asked Miranda to give the staff an overview of some of her activities conducted on behalf of Admiral Anderson over the last several months and to touch on the relevant discoveries her team had made. There was no question in her mind or a need to confer with Shepard about what was appropriate for this audience's consumption.
She began by detailing her mission to stop the SAIS plot on Arcturus Station, describing the Reaper-augmented human she'd encountered there and the pathogen that they had sought to release into the atmosphere processing equipment. Chancing another look at Adams, she could see that much of what she relayed about the mission was completely new information to him. Perhaps it would ease his acceptance of her.
Miranda also touched on her activities on Sanctum, including the substance they discovered being processed there, designed to enhance Cerberus shock troops. And she told them of her belief that the Illusive Man was in possession of something potentially vital to the war effort, a likely highly advanced piece of Prothean technology. She made no mention specifically of Kenson or her father.
When she'd finished her story, Shepard thanked her and then quickly went on to discuss a few last topics of ship's business before wrapping up the meeting. She only half listened, her mind drifting, still thinking of the journey she'd taken to get back to this place.
Over the last several months, Miranda had worked primarily alone or with only Oriana and Kasumi at her side while Goyle provided the nominal oversight, legitimizing her activities. But now, she was a part of Shepard's crew again. More so, she was once again a member of his diverse, extended family, welcomed by some, less so by others, and distrusted by most.
Still, it felt right to be there again. She was home.
Author's note:
I had originally thought this chapter would get us through the War Summit and end at the beginning of the Sur'Kesh mission, but all the other content I needed to cover ended up growing and I didn't want to turn it into a massive, mega chapter. We'll get back to some action in 31 when we begin the Sur'Kesh-Tuchanka arc, with some twists.
So, obviously another highly Miranda-focused installment, but an important one in order to circle back to some of the issues we've established for her. I'll be working toward addressing them all (the PTSD she's suffering from after being tortured by the SAIS, the loss of her biotics, and the canon issue of her infertility) as the story progresses. I also wanted to take the time to properly frame her status on board the ship.
Miranda's return to the XO role wasn't something I was initially sold on, but the more I thought about her serving over a predominately Alliance crew, the more the idea grew on me. And I do enjoy spending a little bit of time on the Normandy, getting characters situated and building foundations for future activities. Hopefully it's not too mundane.
Also, I'm still committed to taking a slightly different approach with EDI/Cerberus Android. With EDI's voice actor in mind, and an eye toward the Eva Coré character established in the ME: Evolution comic, I'm portraying her image as something closer to the human-looking Cylons of BSG. When or if EDI eventually takes control of the body will be switched up, as well.
Thanks for reading and reviewing.