Inside the shuttle, Shepard stared out the window at the serenity of space, trying to ignore the pregnant silence that hung between the three of them. Jacob was gazing out of the opposite window, but Miranda was staring unabashedly at Shepard. Admiring your work? Shepard thought uncomfortably, avoiding her eyes.
Miranda broke the silence first. "Before you meet with the Illusive Man, we need to ask you a few questions to evaluate your condition," she said.
"Oh come on, Miranda," Jacob interjected, his voice tinged with frustration. "More tests? Shepard took down those mechs without any trouble. Thathas to be good enough."
"It's been two years since the attack on the Normandy," Miranda said matter-of-factly. "The Illusive Man needs to know that Shepard's personality and memories are intact. Ask the questions. The sooner we start, the sooner this can be over. Start with personal history."
Jacob sighed, defeated. "Okay. Shepard, records show that you were the sole survivor of the batarian attack of the human colony of Mindoir. Do you remember that?"
"It was painful," she reflected. "I lost a lot of people I loved. Going through something like that can change you. It can break you, if you let it. I didn't."
"Right," Jacob said. She could tell that there was more, and that he didn't want to say it. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "But then you were part of a squadron that was attacked by a thresher maw on Akuze. You were the only survivor."
"Fifty marines lost their lives that day. Great men and women. I barely made it out," Shepard said solemnly. She didn't like the nature of these questions. It was like they were trying to rattle her emotionally.
"Alright, something more recent now," Miranda said, moving on without acknowledging the painful subject at hand. "On Virmire when you were pursuing Saren. One of your squadmates was lost that day."
"Ashley Williams, another Alliance marine," Jacob added. "It was your call. Why did you leave her behind?"
Shepard blinked, surprised. They were really digging deep here. "I left a friend to die that day," she said slowly. "I didn't do it casually. I had to save as many people as possible." Liar, a cruel voice in the back of her mind said maliciously. You saved the man you loved and left a comrade to die without a second thought. Shepard shook her head, trying to quiet the destructive thoughts. Ashley's death had burdened her conscience for so long, and she would never forget it. But it served no one to continue to berate herself for it. Besides, Kaidan was hardly her lover now. She wanted so badly to ask Miranda where he was, but she kept her mouth shut. She didn't want to get too chummy with Cerberus, and she definitely didn't want to involve Kaidan if they were up to no good.
Miranda and Jacob were looking at her expectantly. Shepard cleared her throat uncertainly before continuing. "Ashley gave her life to save the rest of us that day. Without her, we could not have defeated Saren. She died a hero," she finished, sitting back in her seat and averting her eyes from Miranda's scrutiny.
"I understand, Commander. And I wasn't judging your decision. Everyone at Cerberus knows that that cloning facility had to be destroyed." Shepard smiled at Jacob's comforting words, surprised that he was offering support when apparently he should have been evaluating her like a lab rat.
Miranda ignored Jacob's interruption and continued the line of questioning. "Shepard, think back to the Citadel. After the Council was lost and you killed Sovereign, what happened next?"
"David Anderson was named the first human Councilor," Shepard replied confidently, suddenly wishing her kindly old friend was with her now.
"Yes, though I hear he preferred the military life," Miranda observed.
"But it's good that the human councilor won't put politics before defense," Jacob offered.
Miranda nodded before turning back to Shepard. "Your memory seems solid, but there are other tests we really should run."
"Enough, Miranda," Jacob said suddenly, surprising them all. "Her memories are there and I can vouch for her combat skills personally."
"I suppose you're right," Miranda said grudgingly. "The Illusive Man will have to accept our little field test, I suppose. Shepard, is there anything else you'd like to discuss before you meet with him?"
Shepard nodded. She was nervous to discuss it, but she was absolutely burning with questions about the others. "My squad and crew . . ." she began, not sure what to say. "I am having trouble with the whole 'two years' thing. Do you have any idea where they've all gone?"
"I doubt that the Illusive Man's first priority will be a reunion, but you can ask him what he knows when you meet. Still, for now you should focus on the job at hand. The whereabouts of your surviving squad and crew are not really my concern. But I can tell you that the last time I saw most of your people was your funeral." Miranda's demeanor was jarring. Shepard had a hard time responding after hearing that she'd had a funeral, though she supposed it was to be expected—she had died.
"It was a moving memorial," Jacob said gently, clearly trying to repair the damage Miranda had done to the general mood.
"Here," Miranda said suddenly, as though struck with an ingenious plan. "You can watch the vid."
"The vid?" Shepard asked, shocked. She wasn't sure she wanted to watch her own funeral. It was all so morbid, and it felt like she was invading the privacy of the mourners. But Miranda was already accessing a vid on a laptop that she produced from under her seat. Shepard knew that she would likely see this footage anyway, and Miranda was clearly showing her this to try and gauge her reaction—another test. Shepard decided that she was going to pass it, damnit. Miranda offered her the laptop, along with a headset, and as Shepard settled the earphones onto her head and arranged the laptop in her lap, her uncertainty disappeared.
The vid was paused on the first frame. In it, she saw her dearest friends dressed in dark mourning garb, seated next to one another on a raised platform in front of a large crowd. They were assembled on what appeared to be the Citadel's Presidium. Liara held a delicate handkerchief to her nose and Tali rested a hand comfortingly on the asari's back. Garrus looked serious and uncharacteristically reverent on the other side of the platform next to Wrex, who stared listlessly at the ground. Joker and Anderson were there too, the former bent forward with his face in his hands, looking strange without his trademark ball cap; the latter looking stately and solemn as ever, though sadness deepened the lines on his face.
All of them sat before a large photo of Shepard that towered over the whole grim congregation. It was a candid shot of her, youthful and happy, garbed in her old Alliance fatigues. Although they had been cut out, Shepard realized with a pang that on either side of her, the original photo had featured Kaidan and Ashley during their first visit to the Citadel as a team.
But it was the man at the podium in the center of the platform that caught Shepard's eye and knocked the breath right out of her. Kaidan looked thin and pale, his eyes swollen and discolored from weeping. Even so, he still looked as handsome as ever in his dark dress uniform. "Lieutenant Alenko gave quite the touching eulogy," Miranda remarked casually. "Well, he tried to, anyway."
The pain on Kaidan's face brought stinging tears to Shepard's eyes. She knew that Miranda was watching her closely, but she didn't care. She gently touched his image on the screen, wishing she could reach through time and space and comfort him, tell him that she was alive and safe—for now. She swallowed the hard lump that was forming in her throat, and checking that the headphones were functioning properly to at least give herself a modicum of privacy, she started playing the vid.
Kaidan cleared his throat nervously and looked around at the huge crowd gathered to honor Shepard. He ran his palm along his speech that he'd unfolded on the podium in an attempt to flatten the wrinkles out of the paper. He then dropped both hands to his sides and looked up at the audience. In truth, he had the speech memorized. It was there as a precaution in case he choked. He took a deep breath, and began.
"Commander Shepard was without a doubt the bravest person I've ever known. She dedicated the better part of her life to serving the Alliance with honor, and her deeds have made this entire galaxy a better place. She was a credit to humanity, but it was just as important to her to foster peaceful relations with all alien races, even those responsible for the massacre of her home colony, showing her accepting and progressive worldview."
So far, so good, Kaidan thought. His voice was strong and confident as it projected across the gathering. But something wasn't right. Kaidan's Anderson-approved speech felt dry and impersonal. The things he was saying about Shepard were true, but they weren't really what made Shepard,Shepard.
Fuck it, he decided. I'm going off script.
"Those things are what made Shepard a good soldier," he said, pausing to think. "But Shepard was also a good friend, and just a damned good person. Anyone in her crew would tell you the same. She treated the lowliest engineer's assistant with the same respect as a member of the Council. She took the time to get to know everyone she ever met, and she had a way of making you feel special when she talked to you." Kaidan felt a lump starting to rise in his throat, but he forced it down and went on.
"She made us feel special because every friend she had meant a lot of her. She lost . . . everything when she was young. That can make a person bitter. That can do ugly things to a person. But not Shepard. It somehow made her even better." His voice broke on the last word and Kaidan knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but he didn't care. She deserved to be honored.
"Since she had lost so much, she cherished what she did have even more. She always made sure that we—her crew—knew how much we meant to her, what a good job we'd done. She was unconditionally kind, compassionate, and generous that way. And she was always smiling, even when she was going through things that most of us would never have been able to handle.
"And she was so full of life. She loved to shoot and she loved to drink, and she could hold her liquor like you wouldn't believe for someone so small. She . . . she liked music, and dancing, even though she was awful at it." Tears were running down Kaidan's face now, and he was sniffling loudly into the mic. He could see several others crying in the crowd and hear Liara sobbing behind him. It didn't help. He was starting to lose it.
"Yeah, she was awful at it. But she looked so-so beautiful doing it, ya know? She was beautiful without even trying. Even though her nail polish was always chipped, even when her hair was a mess. She had so much life left to live. And how caring she was . . . she would have made a phenomenal wife, a loving mom one day. But it all got taken from her." He paused, trying to collect himself, to stifle the tears that were flowing freely down his face. He looked up to see the Council in places of honor in the front row, and his ears burned with rage.
Not taking his eyes off of the Council, Kaidan continued. "She deserved BETTER, damnit!" Kaidan was yelling now. The unfairness of it all was creeping up on him again. He could see Anderson standing from his seat to the left out of his periphery. He ignored him and went on.
"She deserved to have a life. She gave everything she had to save all of your lives. And for what? The Council never listened to her. She survived fighting a goddamned Reaper. Then she died out on a petty hunting mission. She died because all of you sent her out to do busy work to keep her from asking questions!" he snarled out the last sentence, glaring daggers at the Council. All of them were determinedly refusing to meet his gaze. Anderson appeared behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder.
"That's enough, Alenko," he said gently. But Kaidan shrugged him off. He wouldn't end the speech that way.
He lowered his voice and looked up at the rest of the audience. "What you need to know about Shepard is that every single day, she put the needs and happiness of others before her own. She may never get the chance to reap the benefits of the work she's done, but she deserves to be remembered. I wish she could see how many of you came here to honor her," he said quietly. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
"She would have been embarrassed at first, to see this many people here for her. But then she would have been happy to know that she was appreciated. And she would smile." Kaidan choked back a sob. He felt weak suddenly. Dizzy with grief.
"I would give anything to see her smile just one more time, or for the chance to talk to her. To-to tell her. Tell her I-I-" He finally broke down, his legs crumpling beneath him as he shook with sobs. He didn't have it in him to feel embarrassed, though no one was laughing. No one was mocking him. Kaidan had brought most of the gathering to tears with his heartfelt eulogy. Even the Council had the decency to look moved as Anderson and Garrus guided their hysterical friend off the stage.
As the vid ended, Shepard tore her eyes from the screen to see that Miranda was studying her curiously while Jacob was staring determinedly out the window again. She could feel tears staining her cheeks, but she'd been too engrossed in what she was watching to make a sound. Pleased that she hadn't given Miranda the satisfaction of witnessing a total breakdown, she discreetly dabbed her tears away, cleared her throat, and forbade herself to cry. She could break down later, in private. Not in front of Cerberus.
It was cruel of Miranda to show her something so personal, especially in the company of her and Jacob, but Shepard was glad she'd seen it. It dispelled any doubts she may have had about that fact that she really had been . . . dead. But the sight of Kaidan in so much agony was the most heartbreaking thing she'd ever seen.
His words about her had touched her soul. No one had ever spoken about her that way before. She felt then more than ever that she loved him. She wanted nothing so much as to find Kaidan, to comfort him in the knowledge that she wasn't gone and to tell him how she felt. But she had to remind herself that two years had gone by. Kaidan had, in all likelihood, moved on. Seeing her again might only bring him more pain. And in any case, Shepard didn't have the luxury of focusing on Kaidan at the moment. She needed answers, and she had to play nice with Cerberus to get them. So she closed the laptop and passed the rest of the shuttle ride with her two new companions in an uncomfortable silence.
Shepard eyed their destination through the small shuttle window, in awe at the sight of yet another enormous space station. It was mind-bogglingly long, with one tall tower rising in the middle, and a long, curved beam running under the bottom that glowed vividly with blue light. All along the length of the station, lights from windows and machinery blinked at her. But it wasn't a welcoming image. Shepard was nervous at the prospect of meeting the man who commanded not one but several dauntingly large space stations, and Cerberus stations at that. Who was this Illusive Man, and why hadn't she heard of him before?
When the shuttle docked, Jacob gave Shepard a quick, reassuring smile before striding off on some errand. She looked around at the massive docking bay, trying to take stock of the seemingly countless aircraft inside, at the numerous ranks of Cerberus officers scurrying about, working. Miranda just gave her an exasperated look, her hands resting on her shapely hips. "Well, come on," she said to Shepard impatiently. Miranda's accented voice sounded as if the woman was born to give orders. Shepard didn't like that one bit, but she nodded brusquely at Miranda as she followed her through the clean, well-lit halls and sliding doorways of the Cerberus station.
They walked in silence for what felt like an eternity. Shepard tried to look at Miranda out of the corner of her eye as they went along, to get a read on the enigmatic and authoritative woman. Miranda seemed to feel Shepard's stare and she turned to meet her gaze, her intensely blue eyes boring into Shepard's. Shepard defiantly kept her eyes locked on Miranda's, but the woman's face didn't register even a shred of friendliness. "You know," Shepard observed, "If we're going to be working together, we're eventually going to have to get along."
Miranda scoffed at that, her smooth ivory skin crinkling between her brows as she grimaced at Shepard. "I can't imagine why you'd think that efficient work requires that sort of sugarcoated facade." Boy, this is off to a great start, Shepard thought darkly, turning away from Miranda and hoping desperately that they would reach wherever it was they were headed soon.
Miranda finally stopped at a door that required her handprint for security clearance. She removed one of her snug, shiny black gloves and placed her hand on the pad until it turned green and beeped, signifying that they were cleared to enter. Shepard stepped through the doorway first, into a nondescript room that held an assortment of computers and storage cabinets, with a couple of desks against the walls. It boasted one large window offering a nice view of the stars. She noticed that at the rear of the room there was another set of sliding doors, and guessed that it was through them that she might meet this aptly named Illusive Man at last.
"If you wish, you can peruse the armor stock in this room for something better suited to your needs than what was available on the last station in a pinch. And I suggest you change before you meet with the Illusive Man. He is waiting for you just through there," Miranda announced, gesturing to the doors that Shepard was looking at moments before.
"Thanks," Shepard replied, stepping toward one of the cabinets against the wall. Inside, she was happy to see a familiar assortment of N7 gear. She ran her fingers appreciatively over a set of streamlined and lightweight armor that she'd never seen before. The pieces were all made of a carbon fiber-like material, but stronger. Most of it was a simple matte black, but the iconic N7 stripe down the shoulder and arm stood out in a shiny red finish. She pulled the set of armor out of the cabinet and laid it down on a nearby table, also selecting a set of casual fatigues that looked close to her size. She noted with distaste that they bore the Cerberus colors and insignia, but there weren't any uniforms without the logo.
She was about to change, but she felt Miranda's eyes on her, watching her every move as if analyzing her choices. "Um, a little privacy, please?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at Miranda.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Miranda huffed indignantly. "Modesty is not something I expected from the bold Commander Shepard. And it's not like I haven't seen what you've got under there." Miranda gave Shepard a sardonic smile, but Shepard was pleased to note that the woman turned away, stepping to a nearby computer and leaving her some degree of privacy. It wasn't that Shepard was shy, quite the contrary. But she didn't want to the give the bossy Cerberus officer the satisfaction of having her obediently comply with her every wish, didn't want to accept Miranda's rather rude scrutiny.
Stepping into the Cerberus fatigues felt oddly traitorous. She still couldn't believe that she was in this situation, on a Cerberus station, cooperating with Cerberus people, wearing a Cerberus uniform. The clothing fit well enough, but it didn't feel right, wasn't the same as the traditional Alliance fatigues she was used to. Her old uniform had felt homey and familiar, even if it hadn't exactly been flattering. Shepard's mind strayed unhelpfully to memories of how Kaidan had somehow miraculously made Alliance fatigues look unbelievably sexy. How many times had she lost her breath watching him work in that same old uniform? She wondered in spite of herself what he was doing at that moment, and if he still thought about her from time to time, if he still looked so irresistible in his uniform . . . Shepard sighed and shook her head. She needed to focus on her present situation, however unpleasant it might be.
After she finished dressing, she regarded her reflection for the first time in a nearby mirror. She was equal parts surprised and relieved to find that she looked, well . . . like herself. She noticed some unsightly scars here and there, even some marring the olive skin of her once clear face. But they weren't deep. If what Jacob had told her was true, she certainly owed a lot to Miranda for piecing her back together so well. Her same green eyes stared back at her in the glass. Her same, thick, black hair, framed her face and hung down to about her shoulders. It was drastically shorter than she was used to, but it was her hair. She noticed that her piercings, two in each ear, were still intact, although she wasn't wearing any earrings.
She was still marveling at how Miranda had apparently resurrected her from the dead with all of her original parts when the woman appeared behind her in the mirror. "When you're quite done checking yourself out, Narcissus, the Illusive Man is still waiting," she announced.
"Right," Shepard said through gritted teeth. She knew Miranda's joking insult was meant to grate at her, but she wasn't going to show it. She was seeing herself for the first time after being dead for two years. Wasn't she allowed to be curious? She stalked off toward the doors, eager to leave Miranda's company, but trying to compose herself before this important meeting.
As she stepped through the doors, she descended a small flight of stairs before walking into an empty room. Confused, Shepard stepped forward a few paces before coming to a stop on a round platform. It instantly registered her presence, and she fidgeted uncomfortably as some sort of scanner rose in a circle around her, engulfing her in light. She blinked for a few moments, looking around to notice that suddenly the empty room had vanished, replaced by another.
She was standing on well-polished, almost reflective tile floor. The room was nearly empty, but what really grabbed her attention was the sight of an enormous, nearby, dying star. She could see the bright lights and colors of a gargantuan star clearly through dramatic, floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows at the back of the room. She tore her eyes from the captivating sight to find an older, well-groomed man in a tailored suit, seated in the center of the room in a sleek metal chair. He was enjoying a cigarette, and the smoke wafted around him in lazy clouds, obscuring him in an ethereal haze.
While all of it was at once vivid, colorful, and disorienting, Shepard was dimly aware that it was just a projection—that she was really back in the plain room on the station with Miranda, and was only meeting with the Illusive Man via a holo. She instantly felt insulted. After everything that she'd been through, he couldn't even meet with her in person?
The Illusive Man spoke first, his voice surprisingly soft, but laced with a menacing edge. "Commander Shepard," he said simply, not bothering to get up. He took a drag from his cigarette and looked up at Shepard expectantly.
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at him, incensed at the nature of their meeting. "Illusive Man. I thought we'd be meeting face-to-face."
He shrugged noncommittally. "It's for safety—a not uncommon precaution for people like us. People who know what you and I know."
Shepard was confused. What knowledge could they possibly share? The fact that he'd ordered his minions to bring her back from the dead? "From what I know," she began carefully, "you spent billions to bring me back. Why?"
"For the defense and preservation of humanity." Sounds about right for Cerberus, Shepard mused. The notoriously pro-human organization was infamous for their anti-alien activities, all in the name of humanity's survival. "I didn't spend this time and money to bring you back just so you could go back to serving as a soldier, Shepard. I need your help because humanity is facing the greatest threat of its entire existence."
Shepard knew thought she knew what he was referring to, and she didn't like it one bit. "The Reapers," she responded simply.
"Glad to see your memory is still sharp," the Illusive Man noted with satisfaction. Shepard made no response, and he attempted pleasantries to ease the tension. "How are you doing with your recovery?" he asked casually, idly tapping his cigarette over an ashtray situated on a side table to his left.
"You have to earn the right to ask me personal questions," she snapped. She didn't like the liberties this man had taken with her life and she cared even less for the prematurely familiar tone he was taking with her now. They were most decidedly not friends.
"Cerberus isn't as evil as you believe," he said, unperturbed. "Believe it or not, Shepard, you and I are on the same side. We just have different . . . methods."
Shepard was unconvinced, and growing tired of his easy demeanor and mincing words. She was winded from her journey and ready to get some real answers. "Get to the point. What are the Reapers doing that compelled you to bring me back?" She uncrossed her arms and took a restless step toward the image of the Illusive Man.
"We're at war," he said simply. Shepard swallowed nervously but kept her expression even. The Illusive Man stood up and walked forward. If they had been physically in the same room, Shepard realized she would have been engulfed in the cloud of smoke that seemed to perpetually surround him. "No one wants to admit it, but humanity is under attack." His tone made her feel sick. It sounded like he was telling the truth, and it was a hard truth to hear.
"While you've been sleeping," he went on, "entire colonies have been disappearing. Human colonies. We believe it's someone working for the Reapers, just as Saren and the geth aided Sovereign." That struck a chord, and Shepard looked away in an attempt to keep her reaction from the Illusive Man. As a former colonist, she knew how isolating it could feel to be so far from the more developed systems, from the Citadel. It didn't sound so improbable that the Alliance could be reluctant to believe or investigate reports of foul play so far from their usual turf. It didn't help that her claims of a Reaper threat after the battle with Sovereign had fallen on deaf ears in the Alliance and the Council. As if reading her thoughts, the Illusive Man continued. "You've seen it yourself. You've bested all of them. That's one of the reasons we've chosen you."
Shepard had to admit that what he was saying didn't sound all that farfetched, but she was hesitant to listen to Cerberus. "Fighting a war doesn't sound like Cerberus work. Why are you involved?"
"Again," he said patiently, "We are committed to the advancement and preservation of humanity. If the Reapers are trying to wipe us out, we have to stop them now. Cerberus is better equipped to do this than the bickering politicians or the Alliance, who refuse to act. If we wait for them to see the threat, there won't be any more human colonies to save."
That sounded legitimate, but the attacks themselves still didn't seem to make sense. "Sovereign was trying to harvest all life," Shepard reminded him. "Why would the Reapers target a few human colonies?"
"I don't know why they are targeting humanity; maybe you got their attention when you killed one of them. But hundreds of thousands of colonists have been wiped out. I'd say that fits the definition of 'harvesting.'" Hundreds of thousands of colonists . . . if he was lying about that, it would be easy for her to find out. So that meant that he was likely in earnest.
"Okay," she said, nodding, "but then why isn't the Alliance stepping in?"
"The attacks are random and in remote locations. I guess they're stretched thin for now and hesitant to acknowledge a connection between the attacks."
"Alright, so you want to do something about it. But why me? Why did you bring me back for this?" Shepard needed to know, but she was loathe to find out. She was grateful to be alive, but was not looking forward to being beholden to the leader of a terrorist organization in return.
"You're unique," he said without hesitation, "not just in your abilities or what you've experienced, but what you represent. You stood for humanity in a key moment. That makes you more than a soldier. You're a symbol. And I don't know if the Reapers understand fear, but you killed one—that's no small feat. They have to respect that."
Shepard didn't like flattery and was starting to like this Illusive Man even less, but she realized that the interview was coming to an end and that she was going to need to play ball with this man for the time being. What other choice did she have? "Okay," she assented. "If this is about taking down the Reapers, I'm game. Where do we go from here?"
The Illusive Man didn't bother looking relieved. He merely chuckled and turned his back on Shepard, gazing at the dying star through the window as he took a thoughtful drag from his cigarette. "Miranda thought you would resist," he offered in reply. "She isn't often wrong . . . about anything."
Shepard sighed in exasperation, hoping he would take the hint and answer her question. He turned back to her slowly. "I have a shuttle waiting to take you to Freedom's Progress. It's the latest colony to be abducted. Miranda and Jacob will brief you, and also accompany you there."
Shepard shook her head in frustration. Miranda was someone she didn't trust or understand. "You expect me to trust them?" she asked. "Miranda just killed one of your people in cold blood right in front of me, and Jacob . . . he's just a gun for hire."
"Wilson was one of my best agents," the Illusive Man admitted, sitting back down with a sigh. He rubbed his hand across his forehead with a pained expression. "But he was a traitor. Miranda did exactly what I expected of her in protecting you and getting you here at all costs. She's saved your life in more ways than one. Jacob's a solider, but he's one of the best. He's never fully trusted me. You might like that about him," he added darkly. "But he's always been honest and up front about it, and about everything else. You'll be just fine with the two of them . . . for now."
How ominous. Shepard wanted to help fight the Reapers in any way she could. But the thought of doing it with Cerberus left a bad taste in her mouth. She found that she was asking herself again if she really had a choice. "Am I a volunteer for this mission, or am I being volunteered?"
"You always have a choice, Shepard," he replied evenly. "If you don't find the evidence we're looking for, we can part ways. But first, go to Freedom's Progress. Find any clues you can. Who's abducting the colonies? Do they have any connection to the Reapers? I brought you back. It's up to you to do the rest." Shepard had more questions. So many more. She wanted to know about her old crew, if they were safe and where they were. She wanted to ask if she could work with them on this task. But the Illusive Man was done talking. He pressed a button on a control panel situated on a side table next to his chair, and the image of his office, projected over Shepard by the beam surrounding her, descended quickly, vanishing at last and leaving her alone in the quiet of the empty room.
Shepard exited to meet with Miranda, who was appraising her with a look of mild surprise. "The Illusive Man is very impressed with you," she said. "I'm eager to see if you can live up to his expectations on this mission."
Shepard didn't care for her tone. "Look, Miranda, I appreciate what you've done for me. But when we get down there, I need to know that you're going to follow my lead, that you aren't going to question my decisions."
"I know who I report to," Miranda said coldly, feigning concentration on something she was working on and refusing to look Shepard in the eye. "If you don't betray Cerberus, I'll follow your orders."
"For someone who spent two years putting me back together, you don't seem real fond of me," Shepard observed.
"I have the utmost respect for your abilities," Miranda returned, looking up from her computer at last. "It's your motives that concern me. I believe in what Cerberus stands for." Shepard was surprised to note that Miranda seemed passionate, about her work with Ceberus, of all things. "Only time will tell if you'll be an asset to our cause or a liability."
"You aren't very easy to talk to," Shepard said matter-of-factly, turning away from Miranda.
"We've got a job to do. We can talk about it, or we can do it." Shepard nodded and proceeded to gather her newly acquired armor from the table in the rear of the room. As she was about to change, she noticed that she and Miranda weren't alone.
Shepard strode over to speak with Jacob, who had arrived at some point during her conversation with the Illusive Man. He was leaning casually against the wall next to the window and looking out contemplatively. "I'm glad the Illusive Man convinced you to join us," he said, turning to her with a smile.
"I wouldn't call it joining you," Shepard said defensively. "Cerberus gave me my life back. I figure that's worth a shot. Just one chance."
"You're still not convinced. Do you trust me, Commander?"
Shepard thought about it for a moment, and remembered the Illusive Man's remarks about Jacob refusing to trust him and being an upright soldier.
"For now," she said cautiously, pleased with the relieved expression that overtook Jacob's friendly features. "Don't give me a reason not to," she warned.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Jacob replied easily.
Shepard eyed him. He looked honest enough, and strong. She knew from their trials on the last station that he was a good soldier. She also remembered him saying he was Alliance trained. "Didn't you say you used to be in the Alliance?"
"Yes, I served for five years. I was part of the Corsairs, a secret initiative meant to utilize independent starships for missions that fell out of official jurisdiction. We were meant to be free from restrictions, to really be able to do meaningful work. But there were still too many regulations, too much red tape. I got tired of never actually making a difference."
She knew that the Alliance had its pitfalls, but she didn't like the way that Jacob made it sound as if the whole organization were meaningless. She had done good work in the Alliance, and so had countless others . . . Anderson, Ashley, Kaidan. Kaidan. She hoped that he was still with the Alliance so that she could try to track him down when this was all over. "So the Alliance wasn't for you," she said, looking at Jacob. "That's why you joined Cerberus?"
"Yes. I thought things would change after the attack on the Citadel because humanity was welcomed into the Council. But nothing changed; same bullshit, different leaders. Cerberus is different," he insisted. "When colonies go missing, we don't write a report about it and create a commission to figure out what to do. We go out and find out what happened."
No, you spend two years working to rebuild one single person before you do anything about it. Clearly, more efficient than the Alliance method. Shepard wanted to argue with Jacob, but he seemed nice enough. She plastered on her best media-ready smile for him.
"Let's get to it, then."
"Yes, ma'am."
She returned to the table and picked up her armor, hoping to find a private place to change. The N7 gear was familiar and she knew she'd feel better with it on. Whatever they would face on Freedom's Progress, she reminded herself that this was what she was born for, what she was good at. And no matter what, every step she took to placate the Illusive Man was a step against the Reapers as well as a step toward her freedom and the chance to seek out the people she loved.
