I know what you're thinking: there can't possibly be a new chapter this soon right? Wrong. This is not a drill.
Ch. 17: Black and Blue
Miranda
The smell of the ocean followed me all the way out of my nightmare and onto the couch where I'd curled up. They were getting worse the closer we got to Oriana's transfer date, dreams of home, dreams of Oriana still stuck there. I pulled my robe closer around my shoulders and revelled in the heat soaking into my fingers from the mug they were wrapped around, keeping my eyes trained on the stars racing past me through the window. Space—sterile, dark, and as opposite of my previous home on Earth as I could get. I breathed deeper into my cup, hoping the smell of coffee could help chase away memories of beaches, heat, sand, and expectations that no wave had ever managed to wash away.
Even the coffee was my way of breaking away. I'd never been allowed to have it. Stimulants are unnecessary for someone of your caliber, the annoying cook had always insisted. Now I drank it religiously–such a predictable form of rebellion, but one I couldn't manage to break. It was the first thing I'd done when I'd run. A blue-eyed toddler babbling up at me from her place on my hip, I'd ordered a cup of coffee to-go at the first place we came to before whisking the two of us away again in the shuttle. Even now, sometimes the smell of coffee would bring back the feeling of the soft warmth of my sister pressing into me, the trust in that little gaze. I had treasured it during the weeks we had together, holed up in an apartment I'd paid for with cash on a backwater planet while I'd devised a better plan. I fought back tears at the memory of the last time she'd seen me, tiny fingers reaching out, before being placed in Cerberus protection. The Illusive Man had said she'd be safer if she didn't know me, and I'd agreed. But sometimes, well, I wondered.
"EDI?" I called.
"Yes, Operative Lawson," EDI answered.
"Status report," I ordered.
"All fourteen crew members scheduled are at their stations. Sixteen remain asleep. Several squad members are still asleep, though five have arrived at breakfast. Biometric scans are within normal range for ninety-three percent of the crew. Of the remaining seven percent, Shepard is showing symptoms of prolonged sleep deprivation, and hormonal imbalances indicative of an irregular emotional state are present in Operative Taylor and yourself, Operative Lawson. Data analysis suggests that you have remained in a state of high stress for the past forty-five days," EDI reported. Lovely, I sighed to myself. "Mission warm-up remains scheduled for 0730, and the physical data for the Collectors has been incorporated into the simulator, as requested."
"Thank you, EDI," I murmured.
I glanced back at my bed, hours cold, and then past it to the clock showing 0630. I sighed and headed for the bathroom, pulling out my rarely used make-up kit to dab concealer carefully beneath my eyes: blue eyes, the same as Father's that chased me through my dreams. I shut them quickly, familiar hatred constricting my chest, before opening them again and staring intently at the mirror. Not his eyes, my eyes. And Oriana's too.
"Miranda!"
I whipped around to see a large shape dominating the doorway to my bedroom.
"Grunt?" I scowled. Why was this happening more often? "My door was locked. How did you get in here?"
He shrugged, large shoulders rolling. "It was unlocked," he said simply.
"I'm not dressed," I said, pulling my robe even closer. Grunt just looked at me blankly, not moving. "That means get out," I ordered and pointed to the door.
Understanding dawned on his face, and he nodded, turning in the doorway but settling on the couch instead of actually leaving. I sighed and shut the bathroom door, quickly pulling on my uniform, brushing out my hair, and pulling it back into a loose bun before leaving again.
Grunt looked smaller and misshapen in casual, ill-fitting clothes instead of his armor. We had stopped quickly at a port yesterday for emergency supplies, materials to fix Garrus' armor, a bed for Grunt, and some basic clothing for both Grunt and Jack. Though, apparently, I shouldn't have left Shepard in charge of the clothes shopping.
"These don't fit," Grunt said obviously, pulling at a shirt that pooled around him like a dress, difficult to do on a krogan.
I sighed. "Shepard picked them, not me. I told you to go with her."
"I got distracted by a weapons shop." He shrugged again.
"Operative Lawson," Mordin announced himself, joining Grunt in my office. Bloody hell, I swore. I must really be losing my edge if my office is starting to feel like the morning after a slumber party. Mordin, however, seemed completely unaffected by my glare, though he was probably the last person I wished to see this morning. His habit of bringing up inappropriate subjects was becoming frustrating, even though I suspected he was teasing. He gained entirely too much satisfaction at prodding me.
"New project in mind. Research suggests microfiber weave possible to increase commander's muscle strength. Will need materials," Mordin proposed.
"And how exactly do you plan to implement something like that without side-lining Shepard for a week or more?" I asked, scoffing.
Mordin paused, his fingers finding his chin. "Will run second round of tests. Still need resources."
"You couldn't have mentioning this yesterday when we were still at a port?" I queried, exasperated as I typed myself a quick note on my omni-tool.
"Data inconclusive yesterday," Mordin explained.
"Fine, I can handle that this week–"
"–Miranda? Oh, I didn't expect so many people to be in here already," Garrus said, concerned, from the doorway, his hands occupied by a red tray.
I narrowed my eyes at the sight of him, a thought coming to me. "Shepard," I growled.
"Yeah," Garrus agreed looking at Grunt. "You really should have given her a different task. Those look horrible. Come to think of it, Grunt, the shirt Shepard bought for me would probably fit you."
"Look, I did my best," Shepard defended, appearing behind the group as Grunt nodded at Garrus enthusiastically. She rearranged one of the two trays of food she was carrying then caught sight of my face, grimacing in return. "Alright, everyone out. I need Miranda. And you three should be getting your gear ready."
"Yes, Mother dearest," Garrus muttered with a smile under his breath, and Shepard shot him a quick, disgusted look.
"Mother?" Grunt asked, looking between the two of him, his eyebrows furrowing.
"Quit it, Garrus," Shepard snapped, then turned to Grunt. "And don't you dare start calling me that."
We could hear Garrus laughing all the way to the elevator after the three of them shuffled quickly through the door. Shepard set one of the trays down in front of me. I frowned at her and she held up her hands in surrender.
"Easy there. It wasn't me. Your locked door is sacred to me," she said. When I quietly huffed my disbelief, she explained, "You forgot to lock it after your five millionth coffee refill last night. I was sitting at the back table."
"Oh." I deflated.
"Just think–" Shepard mouth twitched up at the corners. "–you got to reinforce your 'open door' policy."
"I have never had an open door policy," I disagreed vehemently. I watched the commander try to force down a smile, and I sighed. "Oh, you were joking."
She nodded. "Not a very good one, apparently. C'mon, eat that," she ordered with a wave to the tray she'd set down. "We need to get to the rehearsal. We're trying out the new teams today, remember?"
I pulled the black, plastic tray closer, noting the stark contrast to Shepard's which held a monstrosity of pancakes, muffins, and scrambled eggs. Instead, mine was a carefully constructed selection of yogurt, granola, and an assortment of fruits, though there was a small muffin snuck onto it as well. I scowled to see a cup of water instead of coffee.
Shepard surprised me by setting her tray down on the opposite side of my desk and planting herself in one of the chairs before beginning to shovel her breakfast in her mouth, only stopping to look at me pointedly. I picked up my fork and started with the fruit, stabbing at a piece of honeydew melon we'd bought with the grocery restock yesterday.
When she had cleared her plate in a herculean effort to vacuum up every morsel on the tray in less than five minutes and I had at least eaten enough to appease her, I joined Shepard in the elevator to the cargo hold.
"Your hair is up today," Shepard said, her gaze feeling physically hot against my neck. She squinted closer at me. "And you're wearing makeup."
"I'm not sure why that's worth noticing," I replied.
Shepard gave a soft laugh. "There's plenty about you worth noticing."
"I–" the words were choked in my throat as I just started at her, genuinely caught off guard.I didn't have a chance to ask more as the elevator doors opened, and Shepard bounded away, joining the clash of bodies waiting at the edges of the hold.
Damn it, why does she do that?
I stopped by the locker where I'd stored my armor in anticipation of this morning, and I strapped the shiny, black pieces on quickly over my white uniform. Within minutes, Grunt, Zaeed, and a very disgruntled but now well-armored Jack stood in front of me, waiting for orders for the morning's practice. I stared at the three, now members of the new Team Black (Shepard had been rather unimaginative with the names). They were not who I was expecting Shepard to place with me, though they stalked off willingly enough when I started the simulation for them. In Jack's case, I suspected it was more about getting away from me than actually listening to my orders.
We walked through simple drills, not enough to really exhaust anyone but enough that their muscles wouldn't be cold when we dropped onto Haestrom. Garrus fought through enemies with his own team, Blue, on the other side of the hold, but I quickly lost sight of them. I focused on my own movements, relishing in the flow of my biotics around me to help burn off the anxiety of the morning.
"Does Jacob seem distracted to you?" Shepard asked, appearing at my side. I pulled off to the side and looked over at the soldier in question, pretending to evaluate him.
"He's not on my team. Why aren't you asking Garrus?" I replied, and Shepard's face snapped around to me.
"Damn it, Lawson," Shepard growled, so unexpectedly that I couldn't hide the hurt that cantered across my face at the change in names. "Is it so hard to just answer me?"
"I have done everything you've asked, Commander," I said, staring forward at my team.
"Miranda." Shepard's voice was softer now, and I finally turned to look at her. "I know you aren't a fan of the idea to split the team. But I trust you to be one of the team leaders, so I need you on board anyway. Not making things harder over simple questions."
"He's distracted," I answered, waving at the armor clad soldier fighting his way past us. He was doing...fine, but he was a noticeable tick slower. No doubt it was caused by my forwarding a report containing a lead on Jacob's missing father to him last night. Of course he was unfocused. "I imagine his team leader will present a request from him at some point today."
Shepard's gaze was glued to me, disconcerting in its intensity. "I suppose I don't want to know how you know that," she added simply. "Should I worry about bringing him on the mission today?"
I shook my head. "He's always excelled at following orders, no matter the circumstance."
"You would know," Shepard murmured, and I cringed. I could feel her eyes burning into me, and I raised an eyebrow at her, already steeling myself for what I knew would follow. "I heard you and he used to have a more intimate relationship," she admitted. "Impressive that he still shows such respect around you."
"And why wouldn't he?" I bit the words out, irritated at her hedging around the subject. I eyed her coldly and accused, "No doubt the rumors have warped the details."
"Kasumi does like to share the fruits of her eavesdropping. And you are one of the most popular topics below decks," Shepard said with a smirk and a shrug. "But I merely meant that it's harder to be professional when someone has seen you naked."
"I don't usually find it that difficult," I replied, staring straight at her. A beat went by, and her eyes widened.
She coughed to clear her throat. "That's not fair."
I laughed, and the terseness of the moment broke, Shepard smiling in grateful relief. We both looked away, and I was thankful that I had the excuse of evaluating my new team members. Jack was ripping through holographic Collectors, her wide smile seeming out of place amongst the violence, while Grunt charged along a few feet behind. I scanned the area and eventually found Zaeed crouched on top of some crates with a slight shimmer that indicated Kasumi was next to him. Hm, perhaps it may be worthwhile to get a tactical cloak for Zaeed, I mused. It would be useful for a sniper.
Jack stopped her storming through the enemies when a stray 'bullet' pinged against her barrier, the program registering friendly fire. The biotic whipped around immediately, eyes narrowing on the culprit as she stomped over to the other team and ignored that the simulation had 'killed' her.
"Get distracted over here?" Garrus asked, pulling off his helmet.
"No, we were simply discussing Shepard's ill-advised decision to place Jack on my team," I said, seizing the opportunity to change the topic. I looked at the turian with a telling glance before returning to watch Jack light up with her biotics, pointing towards Jacob. Oh god. I pressed a palm to my forehead, two seconds from intervening should she actually attack a squadmate.
Garrus scoffed at me, a low chuff amidst his heavy breathing. "You think I would have been better? I shot people like her on Omega."
"At least you know the culture," I stated.
"The culture? I was on the opposite side of the culture," Garrus protested. "What about you? Cerberus." He pointed a talon at the logo of my uniform.
"Being labeled a terrorist is completely different from criminal activity," I argued. "Jack and I have nothing in common."
We watched as Grunt blocked Jack's rampage forward, his massive arm pulling her up her short. I sighed in relief, though I still dreaded the moment I would have to try to rein her in. At least a confrontation over authority could be put off a while longer.
Shepard smirked, pointing. "That's why she's on your team. Jack responds well to Grunt. And Grunt responds well to you," Shepard said to me. "The teams are also about building communication, and you and Jack need the most work."
"You're one to talk. I don't imagine the two of you are off butchering the assembly of model ships together," I retorted.
"You know, an Alliance XO never would have given me such attitude. And I resent the fact that you make fun of my hobbies," Shepard said, though real venom absent from her voice. "Also, we're bonding over our mutual hatred of Cerberus fuckery. You'd be surprised how that brings people together."
My jaw tightened. "Wonderful," I replied, closing my eyes.
"Speaking of Cerberus and its tendency to screw people over," Shepard began, "EDI told me Jack's files came in last night."
Damn it, I cursed, and turned to the commander. "I planned on giving them to you today. I just wanted to bring a situation to your attention first."
"Offering up information willingly?" Shepard jested, though it sounded forced combined with her stiffened posture. The commander turned just slightly, enough that Garrus caught the cue to leave, pulling his helmet back on to join the warm-up. "I'll say that's an improvement at least."
"I took the liberty of looking the files over," I revealed.
"Because giving them directly to their intended recipient never would have crossed your mind?" Shepard interjected with words as sharp as metal barbs.
I ignored the jab. "I'm glad I did. There's something about them. I can't place it," I explained, pinching at the bridge of my nose. The cell on Pragia had been tasked with exploring methods to improve human biotics, which sounded vaguely familiar, though I'd found nothing to soothe my unease when I'd read through the files.
"You think they've been tampered with?" Shepard asked.
I looked at her with exasperation. "Tampered with? No," I dismissed. "There's just something at the edge of my memory." Shepard was looking at me with barely concealed skepticism, so I added, "Something important."
"Well, you can mention it to her when you give her the files," Shepard said. I imagine she was trying to pull the statement off with nonchalance, but she gave herself away when she snuck a glance at me from the corner of her eyes. I stared at her.
"You want me to do it?" I asked with a small frown.
"Well you are her team leader now," Shepard pointed out. "And you're the best person to answer any questions she may have."
"As you wish," I replied, pulling my lips back into a false smile.
"Now would be good," Shepard added. I snapped to face her, and she held out a hand to stop my next words. "The warm up is almost over, and we'll be heading out soon. And I have something planned for later, so you should give them to her now."
I eyed her suspiciously, but she remained watching the team instead of catching my eyes. I turned with a sigh and retreated quickly to my office to grab a datapad. I downloaded the files off of my console and onto the portable device but hesitated when I made to cross my doorway. Surely Shepard hadn't really meant I had to give them to Jack personally? I could just as easily slip downstairs to place this on her bed.
I paced into the elevator and hit the button for engineering instead of the cargo hold, but when I arrived, I could see the team below through the window, already filing out towards the elevator for any last minute preparations. I cursed and turned, hurrying down the staircase, my heels playing a marcato beat against the metal.
My eyes adjusted quickly to the low light of Jack's 'room', and I found her bed shoved up against the back corner, her old cargo parts and whatever that was that passed as a shirt slung carelessly on top of a messy cot, unnecessary now that she'd been equipped with a new suit of armor. The extra outfits that Shepard had bought with her yesterday were still in the bag, crumpled and shoved to the other side of the space. Jack's room was devoid of almost anything else, which, honestly, I should have expected since we'd retrieved her from a prison ship. Yet, the lack of personal effects was unsettling.
"Looking for something?"
I froze in the act of placing the datapad on top of her clothes, turning my shoulder just enough to see Jack stopped on the bottom steps of stairs.
Damn it, Shepard.
I was likely giving the commander too much credit, but it certainly felt like she'd let the team go early on purpose.
"No," I said, casting my gaze around the area to make it clear that there wasn't much to look for. "Just leaving the files you asked for."
Jack lunged forward, ripping the datapad from my hands and whirling to land on her bed. I took a step for the stairs, for escape, but Jack's voice stopped me.
"Guess I'll have plenty of time to read since I won't be on the mission," Jack said with a sneer. "Which I'm guessing is your doing, huh, oh mighty leader?"
"No," I denied, surprised. "I didn't know. My input wasn't asked for."
I tried one more time for the stairs. I wasn't trying to please Jack, naturally, by removing myself from her space, but I wanted away, to not have to deal with this before heading down to Haestrom, no matter what Shepard had said.
"Guess I'm not surprised," Jack replied. "Though I didn't expect your type to roll over so quickly."
I bristled at the implication and lost interest in retreat. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," I snapped.
"Please," the tattooed miscreant sneered.
"It's called following orders, Jack," I replied. "Which I suggest you do if you ever want to go on a mission."
"And why should I? Seems like you're the ones who wanted me here. If Shepard wants me to rot down here, it's her loss." Jack waved my comment off. "Or maybe I should just leave at the next stop. I've got my amp now. Who's going to stop me?"
It wouldn't be that hard, I thought, but then another annoying voice reminded me, Teams are about building communication. I rolled my eyes at the imitation of Shepard my mind produced.
"Do you have family, Jack?" I asked. "Friends?"
She rose from the bed, lips twitching. "You know the answer to that," she spat, pointing at the logo on my chest. "And Shepard already tried to win me over with the 'fighting for humanity' bullshit, so you can quit right now. I don't give a fuck about other people, and they don't give two shits about me."
"That wasn't my point," I replied through clenched teeth, barely holding onto the illusion of civility. "I'll admit Cerberus has better things to spend its resources on than recapturing you should you choose to leave. Yes–" I waved a hand– "we would come for you eventually. But until then, where would you even go?"
"Like I would even tell you," Jack scoffed, taking a step even closer with a balled fist.
Damn it. Why am I even bothering? "Shepard is freely offering her protection, but you'll have to actually do something to earn it," I continued. This time I didn't bother to hide the condescension in my tone. I wanted this conversation to be done, but I also didn't want to be shooed away by her.
Jack actually laughed. "Her protection? I know soldier types like her. People like me die for the 'greater good', and then she still gets all the glory," Jack sneered.
I froze, narrowing my eyes. "Shepard isn't like that."
"Look at you." Jack chuckled still. "Whipped like a bitch."
"Hardly," I sneered with a roll of my eyes. "I'm only pointing out that all of the people Shepard cares about tend to come out miraculously unscathed. In a contradictory turn of events, the woman I rebuilt to save humanity is remarkably selfish. When it comes to her crew, anyway."
"That still doesn't mean I'll follow her blindly like the rest of you sheep. This is bullshit. You–" She motioned at me, her voice growing louder– "are full of bullshit!"
"Then let me make one thing clear," I snapped, reaching the end of my patience. Here I'd tried to reason with her, communicate like Shepard had asked, and for what? "Every day you spend here being bloody useless is a waste of food, a waste of space, and a waste of my time. I can find someone else to help us if I have to."
"Useless? You wanted me. You know you won't find a biotic that can do what I can. Cerberus made sure of that," Jack sneered, her voice raised so she was almost shouting.
"Well it obviously wasn't enough," I returned, crossing my arms.
Jack was quickly too close, her face scrunched up and snarling inches from mine. "You have no right. You have no idea what they did to me," she growled.
Perhaps it was because she was right there that I couldn't school my expression quickly enough, couldn't roll off the biting retort that came so naturally to me. But my head was filled with flashes of sterilized tools, straps on my wrists, my ankles, my neck, and doctors with expressionless faces. I smelled antiseptic.
"Or maybe you do," Jack continued, lips curling to show stark white teeth in a cruel grin. "Tell me: what was the price of perfection?"
My biotics flared: a warning for this too-loud delinquent who thought she could comment on things she had no business deducing. I hated her. From her tiny body riddled with tattoos to her inability to never just do as she's told, I had an active loathing that was curling in my stomach like some poisonous creature, ready to strike. I hated how she smirked at me, how she could be completely worthless and, yet, I was expected to try to keep her around. Her, when I was acutely aware that I lived on thin ice, cracking around me until one day it would completely give way and Shepard would be gone, and I would have failed.
Still, it was easier than I imagined to let my biotics fade away again, to fall into a straight posture and clasp my hands behind my back, easy to look composed. "You can find me in my office if you have questions about the files," I said, looking straight at her before turning on my heel.
I started on the stairs, my footfalls now an angry cacophony as I ignored that Jack's biotics had activated around her as well. I'm not retreating, I told myself. Jack was just waiting for a chance, for me to slip up and give her a reason. She wanted me to prove that I wasn't worth the trust Shepard had placed in me. But I would not give her the satisfaction.
XXX
Garrus
I'm never complaining about the heat on Palaven ever again, I groused in my head. The compound on Korlus had felt cooler than this planet with its crazy shield-frying radiation, and even though I, like all turians, naturally had metallic carapaces to deal with the radiation, I was still careful to skirt around the direct sunlight and never let my shield go all the way down. A hand held up to cover my eyes provided no relief, and I quickly dropped it and surveyed the area through squinted eyes. Tali, damn it, you'd better appreciate.
The quarian in question was just on the other side of this block, albeit cornered by a horde of geth. I peered through my scope, zooming in and out of different sections of the area. The seeming eternal twilight of this portion of planet made the lighting tricky. Not much difference in either direction, I determined, but I could see a red suited quarian just ahead. I stood from my crouch, motioning to Shepard and the others that this section, at least, was clear.
"Kal'Reegar, Migrant Fleet Marines," the quarian gasped out as we reached him. "You're Shepard, right? We spoke on the radio."
"Is Tali still alive?" I burst out first, sliding into the cover next to him. A slew of rockets slammed against the other side, but the concrete blocks we hit behind held for the moment.
"She should be. Tali'Zorah is in the observatory, and the geth haven't been able to get through the door," Kal'Reegar explained. I heard the rattle of his intake of breath, and then he dragged himself upward to fire a rocket before collapsing back down. Shepard poked her head over the cover as well but dropped sharply back down when bullets peppered against her shield.
"What can we do?" Shepard asked, her eyes drawn by Miranda scrambling somewhat gracefully on all fours to join us. I watched her more subtly, but I had always been bad at masking my emotions. And today I was worried. Miranda was usually detached during missions but never quiet, never this on edge. It was starting to make me twitchy. "EDI, what's the field look like?"
Shepard shook her head at the silence, and I reminded her, "The radiation blocks orbit to surface communications. We're on our own down here."
"The middle is like walking into a slaughterhouse. The Colossus has a clear shot at you and you'll be hit by the rest of the geth on both sides," Kal'Reegar jumped in helpfully, though his voice sounded high and strained. "The left gives you more cover, but your back is completely exposed. Which is how I got shot. The right side will give you height, a good perch to hit the Colossus with, but your back is still exposed and there's a lot of geth that way."
"You were shot? Your suit is ruptured?" I asked, scanning him for any obvious tears. A suit rupture was almost a death sentence for a quarian, especially if left too long. Next to me, Miranda began rummaging in the medical pouch strapped at her waist, pulling out syringes, examining them, and putting a few back.
"Ruptured, yes, but the battle seals clamped down and I'm loaded with antibiotics. I'll make it long enough," Kal'Reegar replied. Though impossible to tell through the mask, I was left with the impression that he was gritting his teeth.
"How big is the hole?" Miranda questioned, never raising her eyes from her task. When Kal'Reegar stared at her instead of answering, she finally glanced up to snap at him with obvious impatience. "The rupture? How big is it?"
"Smaller than a credit chit," Kal'Reegar finally gasped out.
Miranda nodded and pulled what looked to be a square of plastic sheeting from the pouch.
"You have a suit patch?" Kal'Reegar asked, cocking his head, as Miranda peeled a layer away from the black square she held.
"You do?" Shepard asked, equally as shocked.
Miranda steadily gazed back at them both. "When I was informed that we'd be acquiring a quarian teammate, I made the necessary purchases," she explained. "This will secure it better than the emergency seals." Kal'Reegar pointed her towards the hole located on his side, and Miranda lined up the patch, stopping only to uncap one of the syringes she'd pulled out.
"You realize you can't give him your normal medicine," I interrupted.
The glare I received was strikingly cold, blue eyes slicing through me. "If you think me that incompetent, I do wonder how I didn't kill you on Korlus," Miranda replied, turning back to her work and depressing the syringe into her quarian patient.
"Right," I said, immediately chagrined. I could see Shepard grinning at me even through the tint of her visor. "Of course you've had dextro medicine this whole time."
"Alright, back to saving Tali," Shepard redirected us. "Our best bet would be to split and take each side. It decreases the chances of the geth flanking either team but, unfortunately, doesn't eliminate it."
"I've still got a rocket launcher left. I can distract them from here while you go," Kal'Reegar offered, gripping his gun hard.
"No," I said before anyone else could. Shepard's head turned slowly to me. "Tali asked us to protect him."
"I'll stay with him and watch the rear," Miranda answered, but Shepard was already shaking her head. I, too, stared at her, wondering why the Cerberus operative would ever be the one to volunteer to stay.
"That's basically leaving you here alone, Miranda. It's too risky," Shepard countered.
"Don't insult me," Miranda shot back. Really it was Kal'Reegar who should be insulted, but I resisted the urge to point that out. "We have height and cover. I can handle this."
"Maybe I should just stay instead?" I offered.
Miranda's face went from determined to downright vicious so quickly my stomach did a little flip. That was so clearly the wrong thing for me to say, and it was only emphasized by Shepard's added, "Really, Garrus?"
"Will stay with Operative Lawson," Mordin offered into the tension. We all looked at him in surprise, but he just grinned in that odd way of his. "Likely not very helpful. But good conversation. Want to finish discussion on unique biotic applications."
Miranda's eyebrows shot up, a pink tint to her cheeks betraying her usually cool facade, and then she was quickly punching a code into her omni-tool. Her visor re-tinted seconds later, and she finally gave a nod of consent before looking to Shepard for confirmation. The commander sighed.
"Stay focused, Doc," Shepard warned. "Alright, split into teams Black and Blue, just like we practiced this morning. Black with me on the left, and Blue will punch through to the perch on the right. Let's go."
Grunt and Zaeed joined Shepard as she rolled out of cover and stormed to the nearest pillar, careful to keep them out of sunlight as much as possible. Kasumi and Jacob looked to me, and I nodded, gripping my rifle with determination despite the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. My first time leading others since...since you got your whole team slaughtered like drugged varren. I could feel eyes on me, and I did my best to ignore them, instead focusing for a last moment on Kal'Reegar.
"You stay alive," I ordered him, then turned to march off with my team in tow.
By the time we made it halfway, my gun was so hot I could feel it through my gloves. Ejecting the thermal clips often kept the rifle functioning for now, but I shuddered to think of the damage I was going to have to fix back on the Normandy. The weapons of my teammates weren't faring much better: Jacob had actually completely abandoned his pistol on the ground. To make things worse, it took much more effort to kill a geth than it did an organic, a fact which I had learned years ago, but that Jacob and Kasumi hadn't expected.
Geth didn't stop moving because they'd been shot in the leg. They didn't feel pain. A bullet to the knee wouldn't even cause a limp unless it managed to blow the whole limb off. A kill-shot was merely an annoyance in some cases, and that lesson was reinforced when a supposed-to-be-dead geth trooper wrapped its metal fingers around Kasumi's leg and dragged her down.
Luckily, Jacob and I disabled it before Kasumi was seriously hurt, but she was moving slower after. Was I supposed to have warned them about how to fight geth? Was it not obvious? It wasn't like Shepard had given a tutorial all those years ago either. We had just learned quickly in battle. But this felt completely different, now that I was responsible for them. I knew how to lead, had done it before, but everything felt so out of sync after…
"Night, night!"
Miranda's usual cocky comment refocused me on our charge through another wave of geth. It was comforting, in fact, to know that, despite whatever was obviously bothering her, her head was still in the game. Even if mine felt like it wasn't. In fact, the same could be said for many of the team today. Something was just slightly off, had been since Horizon. I wondered if meeting the Collectors head on had finally been a wake-up call for everyone, that this was real, that this was incredibly dangerous.
Stop it, you're here to get Tali, I reminded myself. The quarian's name became a mantra, repeating through my head as I moved forward. A quick glance behind me showed that the geth had indeed tried coming up behind us but were being waylaid by the rearguard we'd left behind.
I released almost a whole clip into the geth nearest to me before grabbing its gun and ripping it from its hands. I jabbed my left hand forward, pulling back my thumb to release an overload. The android crumpled and fell before me, some liquid spilling out of its hydraulic systems to splash against my shoes and steam in the heat.
The fight was over half an hour later. Twelve minutes to finally reach the perch, two minutes to overload the Colossus' shield, four minutes for rockets to completely demolish it, and the remaining twelve minutes to mop up the few smaller geth units left, pinching them mercilessly from both sides. It took only a minute for me to rush up to the door Tali was protected behind. The rest of the team straggled up quickly after.
Shepard looked over at me as she approached the door. "Tali? You in there?" Shepard called, pressing at the locked mechanism until it beeped, though still remained closed.
"Shepard? You made it through! I'll get the door," Tali's voice drifted, muffled, through the metal.
The two parts rolled back, revealing a dark room lit partially by electronic displays. Tali stepped forward, but Shepard remained at a distance after crossing the threshold, looking around her surroundings warily.
"Garrus," Tali said, warmth suffusing her voice.
"I'm glad you're okay," I replied. I hugged her, though I felt a bit awkward, and was relieved when she returned the contact. We were old friends, after all. Not that much had changed. Hopefully.
"I could be worse," Tali answered. "But I'm not thanks to you all. Shepard?"
The commander turned, the only one who still hadn't untinted her visor upon entering the room. She kicked at the body of a geth.
"What happened here?" Shepard asked.
"The Admirals deemed research on this system's star to be important. They knew it was risky, but...It was supposed to be worth it," Tali explained. Her voice sounded tight, shaky with grief, but she didn't look away or turn her head to the side, usual tells of shame. Then again, it was easier for Quarians to shadow their feelings if they didn't want them known. Their visors did most of the work for them. "I'm glad you showed up when you did. How did you know I needed help?"
"I didn't," Shepard admitted. "I wanted to ask you to join me again. Rescuing you was just a happy side benefit."
"Yes," Tali said, putting her hands on her hips.
"Yes?" Shepard asked.
"I'll join you. I completed my mission as asked, and now those bosh'tet Admirals can go to hell. Some of this team were my friends," Tali mourned, looking at the handful of quarian bodies scattered in the room. "Where is Kal'Reegar? Did he…?"
"He's alive," I confirmed. "We left him with Miranda."
"Who?" Tali asked, turning to Shepard.
"My XO. You met her on Freedom's Progress," Shepard explained.
Tali went stiff, reaching for her shotgun and heading for the door before I could think twice about stopping her. "You mean the woman who tried to steal a sick quarian? Are you insane?" Tali shouted.
I jogged after her. "Relax, Miranda fixed his suit. He's fine," I tried.
"Forgive me if I don't trust some Cerberus…"
Tali trailed off at the sight of Miranda, with Kal'Reegar's arm slung around her shoulders for support, shuffling their way to us with Miranda's barrier shimmering around them to protect from the radiation. Mordin walked along too, chatting happily alongside them.
"You're wrong," Miranda was saying, her eyes fixed on her feet. "That kind of gene therapy has been tested, and it failed."
"Didn't have me. Interesting implications, if proven," Mordin contested. "Failure not fatal. Simply...inconvenient."
"It's not interesting enough to let you try it on one of the crew, Mordin," Miranda argued. "And if I had planned on modifying Shepard's genetics, I would have done it when Dr. Wilson suggested it two years ago. I don't see him still pestering me about it."
"Dr. Wilson was your associate on Lazarus Station?" Mordin asked.
"Yes, and I shot him," Miranda replied. Mordin frowned at her, and I bit back a smile.
"Shepard letting in just anyone these days?" Tali commented, looking at Mordin.
I huffed a laugh. "Well, she did come to get you. So what does that tell you? Ow!" I exclaimed, rubbing where she'd elbowed me in the ribs. Not that it actually hurt through my newly fixed armor.
"Kal!" Tali exclaimed, running forward once the three had made it into the shade. Tali relieved Miranda of her charge with a look, and the Cerberus operative, seemingly unconcerned, walked away to join Shepard, who was watching from the doorway.
"Well," I said as I went to Shepard as well, giving Tali room to fill Kal'Reegar in. "We found her."
"Yeah," Shepard agreed, her voice flat.
I nudged her with my shoulder. "Tali's happy to see you."
"Is she?" Shepard hummed noncommittally. It bothered me that I still couldn't see her face, even when I turned to look at her again.
"No, Garrus," Shepard cut me off before I could even say anything. "Let's just get back to the ship."
XXX
Miranda
The dull roar of conversation in the mess hall greeted me as soon as I exited the elevator. I surveyed the room, noting the position of our newest quarian addition beside Garrus at a table. I nodded. That was expected.
I made my way to the front counter of the kitchen, eager to grab dinner and escape to my office. The reports had yet to be done for Haestrom, and the event of the days to come would hardly give me free time to catch up with them. Illium: that's what the reports would allow me to forget. I might even write Shepard's report for her, instead of our usual argument.
"Cheerleader," Jack called, stomping up behind me.
"What do you want, Jack?" I asked, not hiding my exasperation as she followed me all the way to the large sheet pans of food.
"I need something," she asserted, and I whirled to face her. She stood too close, and I bumped her arm, still bare skin since she refused to wear the new clothing bought for her. Jack scowled at me.
"So it would seem you decided to cooperate," I stated.
"You know you won't find better than me" she said, shifting back on the heels of her feet, arms crossed, her whole body seeming coiled with energy. "And no way am I gonna let some Cerberus bitch tell me what I can or can't do."
Her words were easy to ignore. Insults from her were trifling. I breezed past her, filling my plate and walking to the side to fill a cup with water.
"So, you needed something?" I asked, glancing back at her. "Though I'll admit, I'm surprised you're asking me."
"I tried to ask Shepard. She said I had to go to my leader," Jack explained scornfully. She glanced over her shoulder, and I found her glare centered on the commander herself, sitting across from Garrus at the table.
"Fine. I'm listening," I said, holding my completed tray and putting my other hand on my hip.
Jack produced a datapad, waving it slightly in the air. "I want to go to the facility that they held me in. And I want to blow it up."
I blinked at her. "You're asking to use our resources to buy a bomb and blow up Cerberus property?" I confirmed, already sneering at her.
"Shit," Jack growled. "I told Shepard this would happen."
"Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint," I replied.
She stomped past me, kicking at the counter as she walked by, and I gritted my teeth together. I saw an open seat by Shepard, and I hesitated, tempted to join what was becoming an informal gathering of the whole team, spirits boosted by what I suspected was more than water in their cups. Zaeed passed by and tried to sit in the open place, but Shepard's glare sent him scurrying in the other direction to join the chanting masses that had started up around Grunt and Jacob, who were arm wrestling at another table. Jacob's arm was wrapped in his biotics to give him a fair chance, of course.
I decided against joining. A working dinner would be the most beneficial, and there really was a lot to do. Like prepare to meet my contact about my sister tomorrow. My stomach twisted.
"Miranda."
I turned at the stern call to see Shepard motioning to the seat she'd kept open next to her. I glanced at my open door, considering making my excuses, but when I looked back at the commander, she was frowning at me. I sighed and took the seat, though I took a moment once my hands were free to make a note about scheduling a trip to Pragia in the coming weeks. Jack may be irritating, but Shepard had been specifically worried about making sure everyone was focused. If blowing up a building would help Jack's attitude, well...there was probably evidence in that abandoned compound that could use a good explosion anyway. I trusted our clean-up crews only to an extent when it came to these things.
"What was that about?" Shepard asked, nodding to Jack, who had replaced Jacob in the arm wrestling bout after he'd lost to the krogan. Tali was glaring at me, luminescent eyes narrowed behind the tinted polycarbonate, though Garrus was already gone from the table, disappeared in the last few minutes.
"Jack requested a trip to Pragia," I answered, taking small bites of my food.
"I'm guessing from her growling that you denied her," Shepard said, grimacing and no doubt thinking of how she was going to have to override the decision. It made me question why she'd bothered to have Jack come through me in the first place.
"I did," I replied. "But I also scheduled it in for a few weeks from now."
Shepard stared at me while I pretended not to notice and continued to eat my food. Rupert had done something fantastic with the potatoes today. I suspected it had something to do with the dangerous amount of melted cheese, and I decided not to finish them.
"Would it have been so painful just to tell her yes?" Shepard was frowning at me again.
"Probably." I waved her off. "She could stand to ask more politely."
"That's rich, coming from you," Tali commented. "I don't remember you asking politely about Veetor." I paused mid-sip and placed my cup down.
"Tali, I believe we got off on the wrong foot. I was...hasty on Freedom's Progress. I'd like to apologize," I admitted, my voice falsely laced with sincerity. Perhaps a public apology could force some sort of civility between us.
No such luck, apparently. "It's Tali'Zorah to you. Or Tali'Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya, if you're feeling formal," Tali snapped back. "Only my friends are allowed my given name. I won't be won over so easily as Shepard."
I looked at the commander in surprise. Tali's words suggested the two of them had already had this discussion. Shepard didn't look back at me, but her thigh brushed against mine under the table and then lingered before she pulled it away again.
"Tali, I'm asking you to trust me on this," Shepard warned. Were they talking about me? Cerberus in general?
Tali sighed. "I'll need access to Engineering," she stated. It wasn't quite a concession to Shepard's words, but it was something.
"I've asked our engineers, Ken and Gabriella, to take care of you," I contributed. "They'll scan your omni-tool and have you authorized."
Tali nodded and stood from the table, taking her red tray with her to drop at the sink before walking past it to the Main Battery.
"Does she realize Engineering is on Deck Four?" I asked Shepard.
Shepard nodded, her thigh brushing against mine again, though this time it stayed. My skin felt hot where we were connected, from hip to knee, and the contact drew all of my attention. When I looked back up at her, Shepard was already watching me intently, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. You will not blush, Miranda Lawson.
"She's probably going to talk to Garrus. About me, most likely," Shepard informed me.
"I thought you would be excited to have her here," I admitted. In reality, Shepard had spent the past few hours sulking in her room. Or that's what I'd deduced from EDI's reports on what Shepard was doing when I'd asked. Though the commander seemed to have made time to speak to Tali at some point.
"I did too. I mean, I am. We've just–" Shepard looked at me seriously– "got a few matters to sort between us."
Her tone made it clear she wouldn't elaborate, and I nodded. "There's a lot to do," I said, cutting the conversation short and standing from my seat. But Shepard grabbed my wrist, loosely, like I could easily shake it off.
"Stay," she said. My heart did a little flip in my chest, looking down at her like this, her face so earnest. "The work can wait."
I removed her hand from my wrist, gingerly pulling her fingers away with my own. "It can't. That's my job," I replied, perhaps colder than I'd intended.
"It doesn't have to be," Shepard muttered, skin about her eyes tightening.
Shepard clearly didn't understand what she was saying. Leave Cerberus? I'd be throwing off over a decade of my life's work like it meant nothing, not to mention the protection from my father that had been freely given by the Illusive Man. All I'd had to do was work for him, and it wasn't even work I resented. He'd given me purpose, resources, and challenges I'd never have found somewhere else. Most importantly, my sister had been kept safe—was still being kept safe, all these years later.
I sighed and didn't answer, but I did sit back down next to her, though the warmth in her eyes suddenly felt like too much. Lustful thoughts and small flutterings of pining were all well and good when they were hidden behind the knowledge that Shepard didn't care for me, that she never would. But this? I looked down to where Shepard had pressed her knee back against mine.
"I can afford another moment or two for you, Commander," I finally replied.
The chapter is a bit shorter than they've been recently, but I hope that doesn't mean less quality. It feels a little like a filler chapter, but some important things needed to happen. Plus Tali is on the ship! I'm excited to play with the dynamics of her being added into the crew. Just a warning for everyone: even though I am trying to delve into team relationships that weren't explored in-game, that doesn't mean everyone is going to like each other. It's just not realistic. Eventual respect, maybe. But they can't all be best friends.
I can't wait to hear everyone's thoughts. What do you think about making the split into teams? I'm hoping it sounds practical, as it was always something I wished I could do in the game. Shepard has the people, so she should put them to good use. How do you think it's going to work out with Miranda leading the team with Jack?
More importantly, who's ready for Illium?