On Elysium, the entire bungalow would be flooded by the late-morning sun by now, which was exactly how her house looked like. Oriana imagined that if Earth wasn't covered by the blanket of a nuclear winter, it would be the same. Nonetheless, she found herself missing the colony she'd been stationed at with a pang that surprised her.
She and Shan had dallied over a late breakfast and were in the process of cleaning up. Something momentous had happened last night, she was sure of it. Miranda never returned to the room they shared, and even though Shepard's door signalled it wasn't locked, neither of them had any desire to find out firsthand if she was in there with him. They'd know soon enough, unless the couple decided they had to make up for all their lost time within the span of one day.
Mentally hiccupping on the images that thought brought on, Oriana decided she had to find something else to think of. She eyed Shan and was reminded of the conversation they had earlier. He had been unusually reticent over the reason why he'd tagged along before and as Shepard got better over this recent week, he seemed to retreat further and further into his shell. Their little excursion on Earth had to end eventually, the onset of which would be marked by the day Shepard was ready to join in their—she dubbed—Assault of Eldfell Tower.
On her part, now that she finally understood his official capacity as Shepard's gaoler, Oriana had been hard-pressed to contain her rising sense of resentment when she thought about it. Not long now. And if what she'd imagined did take place last night, this would be the last outstanding issue they had control over. Better to nip the problem in the bud than have an ugly surprise presented to them when the whole thing was over.
She was passing clean dishes to him to dry when she finally steeled herself and blurted, "Shan? Can I ask you something?"
He looked at her questioningly.
"When this is all over, are you're going to drag John off to a cell in an Alliance prison?"
Immediately, a deep wariness slammed down on his expression, which told her this definitely laid at the heart of his silence the whole week.
"I'm hoping I don't have to." He finally confessed.
She couldn't help her laugh of disbelief here.
"Do you think he'll go along with you meekly?"
"I don't think that," after which he added in a toneless voice. "And it's not something we've talked about."
A sinking feeling began to suffuse her, the kind that came from having the initial elation of finding a friend soured by knowledge of their hidden agenda. It bothered her more than something like this usually would, during a time when she was beginning to find out just how few her friends were.
With effort, she tried to keep hostility out of her tone.
"Then what exactly did you talk about?"
Shan looked down at the plate he was drying. Finally, he gave up all pretence and put both cloth and dish down.
"Admiral Shepard—he told me he felt bad that he was going to get me into trouble. Nobody could've stopped him if he wanted to break parole badly enough. And if I just stood aside and let him go, the only thing I'd be facing is a court-martial..."
It was the first time she'd heard him talk so candidly about the subject. And she refrained from comments that would interrupt his flow of thoughts. Apart from the fact that all this was all new to her, Oriana also had the feeling that this was something he hadn't had the chance to tell anybody all this time.
"He promised to find some way to help me salvage my career if I tag along." Shan went on slowly. "I'm not counting on that. I keep reminding myself what he and your sister did to save Horizon from the Collector attack is one of the reasons why I'm still here. That what they did to end the war is the reason why the Alliance still exists." He placed both hands on the edge of the kitchen counter, knuckles white with the strength of his grip. "I—I just wish the decision didn't fall on me. I don't know what else to do. All I know is tagging along was better than the alternative."
"Not if you get charged for allowing and abetting his escape..."
He looked up and gave her an 'oh shit' look that was so comic and pathetic at the same time that she couldn't help pitying him.
"Oh c'mon, relax! It's not set in stone yet." She gave him a wry smile before as she finally turned off the tap and set down the dish she was washing. "But it looks like things will get more complicated. And dangerous. I don't think it'd help your case if you have to take John back to the Alliance in a coffin. So for now, you're stuck with helping him stay alive."
Shan gave her an intense and worried look.
"You have to understand I owe it to him. I'd never want him to come to harm if I can help it. Same goes for your sister and you."
Oriana drew a deep breath.
"That's good to know. Seeing how the situation keeps changing, I guess you'll have to play it by the ear as we go along."
"Looks that way..."
She cocked her head genially at him. "Life's easier when you just need to concentrate on one thing at a time, isn't it?"
He mustered a valiant smile for her, one she did her best to share. Granted, Oriana had wanted a stronger confirmation, but Shan hadn't asked to come along in the first place, and if this was the best she was going to get, it was something she had to accept. Still, she wished fervently she could do more to tip the balance over. They continued the rest of the work in companionable silence. But when the last item was neatly stacked on the rack, she found the temptation to deliver a parting shot impossible to resist.
"Hey, Shan?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm probably sticking the mother of all feet in my mouth here, but if you don't think John should go on trial, then it looks like you've already made up your mind. The rest is just icing on the cake— y'know, finding the courage to stand by your decision."
Oriana was glad to see as she turned to leave the washing area, his frown was more thoughtful than anything else. As she entered the living room, the door to the master bedroom finally opened. Both Shepard and her sister emerged, dapper, bright, and freshly-showered from the looks of it.
She noted that Shepard had finally trimmed his hair and beard. Other than the shocking colour—Oriana swore she'd never get used to seeing him as blond—she had to admit the overall effect looked good on him, imparting a sense of gravity and austerity to his rugged features.
"Good morning, you two. It's kinda late but all set for breakfast?"
Knowing Miranda, suggesting anything salacious over what they could've been doing the night before would send her older sister straight into outraged silence. But Shepard, as she would soon find out, had no such qualms. Oriana trailed them back into the kitchen, and poured coffee for the both of them plus a refill for herself.
"Got me some breakfast already, but I could go for seconds." Shepard gave her a conspiratorial wink as he rifled through the fridge. "Let's see what we've got here. Oh look, cereal. Haven't had that in a while." He put the box and a carton of milk on the table before placing a kiss on the top of Miranda's head. "What would you like?"
"My usual." Her older sister gave him a warning look. "And I'll get it. Don't exert yourself."
Shepard raised his brows in surprise, seemingly oblivious to her expression.
"There's quite a feast inside that fridge. Sure two pieces of toast is enough? You have to be pretty hungry by now."
"Yeah, we just stocked up." Oriana supplied and then added daringly, "I'm betting you did most of the work too."
"Hey now, I tried, but she kept taking over." Shepard protested.
Miranda choked on her coffee. That did it. The only sensible thing to do was burst into laughter. All this time, Shan was looking on with a stuffed expression, and Oriana placed a finger to her lips for his benefit, embellishing it with an impish grin. Harmless payback for all that incessant mothering was sweet, but as she was beginning to find out, having a fellow accomplice just totally topped the act.
Groaning, Miranda covered her face with her hands.
"Oh god, I dreaded something like this. This is going to last the whole day, isn't it?" She removed them to give Shepard a withering look. "I know Ori's incorrigible. But I can't believe you, of all people, joining in too!"
"I resent that!" Oriana gasped out as she doubled up even harder and Shepard began laughing as well. This went on as her twin muttered about forgoing due process and raining retribution on them, which simply had the effect of adding fuel to fire.
Finally, Shepard held his hands up in defeat, even as he continued chuckling.
"Alright, alright, we'll stop. But I'll cook you some porridge, okay? You'll be hungry in no time on toast."
Miranda sighed long-suffering exasperation and relented. "I could always make more. Do you want some?"
"Sure, I'll eat anything you make."
If it was any other couple, Oriana would be mentally gagging by now. But all she could think of was to clap in joy as she watched her two most favourite people in the world busied themselves prepping breakfast.
Shan excused himself, but Oriana remained at the table, nursing her coffee and laughing when her older sister pelted Shepard with bits of cereal and then feigning ignorance as he looked around. There was nothing extraordinary about it, just motions of what would be a routine for most people. But it was the little actions between them that made the whole thing different. For Oriana, it spoke volumes about their newfound tenderness towards each other.
"So seriously, I'm guessing I don't have to share my room anymore?" Oriana said as the second round of breakfast came to a close.
Miranda and Shepard looked at each other before Shepard nodded his head.
"We'll be seeking asylum with the asari government on Thessia once we're done here. To put it simply, John and I can't remain in Alliance space. I know this means I won't be able to join you on Elysium, but you can always visit us when things are more settled."
Oriana smiled immense satisfaction.
"That was what I was hoping. Great, it's really good to hear that."
"I'm also thinking I should be strong enough by the end of the week to infiltrate the tower." Shepard added quietly. "We should discuss our strategy for that tonight."
Miranda looked at him in concern and then finally bit her lip and agreed.
Oriana could only exhale deeply at that. As she went about her business in and around the bungalow for the rest of the day, she couldn't help but notice her sister and Shepard stealing opportunities to indulge in hugs and kisses. With the place being so small, privacy was inevitably at a premium. Miranda was chagrined to be caught for the first time or two, but after that, she just shrugged and smiled helplessly, her attention obviously miles away.
It must have been worse when they were both serving onboard the Normandy and keeping their relationship under wraps had been of utmost importance, Oriana realised. Knowing how much of a creature of habit and how intensely private her older sibling was, she knew now this particular reunion must lay especially close to Miranda's heart for her to act like this.
And it looked like things were about to heat up again. She could only hope fervently that there wouldn't be any casualties this time, near-misses or otherwise.
-~o~-
"I don't believe Shepard is dead."
She'd heard Kai Leng mutter that assertion ad nauseum over these past few weeks to the point where she didn't care anymore.
"Either find me the evidence or shut up," she'd told him tartly after the umpteenth time.
When he entered her motel room again, she'd half expected him to mutter the same assertion. But this time, there was a manic energy surrounding him, something that was exceedingly rare.
He began without preamble.
"I'm sure now that Shepard isn't dead."
Cordelia raised an eyebrow.
"And how did you come to that conclusion?"
"I decided to check up for anomalies in the Eldfell housing compound, just in case they moved there. There's a small clinic inside. The nurse told me that they'd loaned out their portable operating table on the authority of a certain Lawson a few weeks ago."
"Shepard could still have died while or after being operated on." She pointed out.
Kai Leng shook his head.
"If I failed to get him when he was down, there's a good chance he'll survive it. He's good at taking physical abuse."
She digested the news briefly and then shrugged.
"Shepard is your problem. I recall that you warned me against meddling with him right from the start. I have no intentions of doing that, now or later."
"That's where my second piece of news comes in. If he lives, he should just have recovered from his wounds. There's an announcement on the Alliance network today that he's on parole and broke it running away without notification."
That was newsworthy indeed.
"Why was he on parole in the first place?"
"They didn't say. But there's a reward for the one who knows his whereabouts—fifty thousand credits. Since the mercs are all dead, I've called the Alliance, told them that he's here. Let them do the dirty work for us. It'll come down to the same thing at the end."
She almost wanted to scream at him for doing things without her authorisation. At the last moment, she reined herself back. The fastest way to lose Kai Leng's respect was to lose control, she'd realised, and control was one thing that had never come easily for her.
"Are you daft? What I have in mind falls on the wrong side of the law! And now you're throwing Alliance presence into the mix?"
Kai Leng narrowed his eyes at her.
"I hired those mercs at your say-so. You saw how the three of them destroyed five squads. If you hadn't fucked up, we would've kept the other twin and got Shepard at the same time. I've done my part of the deal, while you have yet to deliver."
Last week marked the third attempt she'd made to access the tower. The most viable way for any security system to filter out the potentially countless of imposters would be to scan every supplicant on a genetic level. It was laughable to think that Eldfell hadn't considered the flaw in this approach given that all his daughters are genetically identical. But it had begged to be tried.
She'd expected resistance from the human security, but the one in charge had told her laconically they had standing orders not to prevent anyone who try to go through the system legitimately. It was another one of Eldfell's tests, she realised. Like the Illusive Man, his was a legacy that reached far beyond the grave.
It didn't work of course. Except that the scan had been genetic, but the system had rejected her based on some mysterious criteria she'd failed to meet. Had it been a lie that she shared the exact genetic make-up as the rest after all? Or was the oldest of them—the one whose name she almost can't bring herself to think of, was different—special, right from the start? If so, it wouldn't be the first time, Cordelia thought bitterly.
"I've solicited the services of a biolab in Hobart for a thorough genetic scan of my DNA as well as the rest's. The results will come out today. We'll find out soon enough what makes my dear oldest sister the only one who can enter that tower legitimately."
He gave her an ugly grin.
"I hope the truth doesn't sting too much."
She eyed him with undisguised loathing. Theirs was a partnership based on the premise of the enemy of my enemies is my friend, but it'd soured ever since that debacle when they'd lost all their troops and the one trump card in the form of that kidnapped twin. Right from the start, Kai Leng had made clear his one objective was to bring down Shepard. Although he considered "downing that bitch" as he called it, a bonus. It was the one thing she needed in a henchman—despite Kai Leng's obsession with Shepard, he always knew where his priorities laid. Nothing distracted him once he had his goal set.
She'd sought him out once the war ended, when she realised that he had been the Illusive Man's right-hand. It was the only way to access the most highly guarded files she'd required—one of which had been the eldest twin's DNA records.
There was no honour between these two particular thieves, she thought as she directed the hovercar over the darkened landscape of Tasmania, heading due east. But what had stung the most wasn't that she would find anything dissimilar in all three DNA records. She was already mentally prepared to find differences. No, it was how Kai Leng had called her out on her incompetence costing them any possibility of victory.
You were not good enough.
She was sick to death of the voice in her head telling her that. She'd been given away at twelve. The man whom she would eventually come to realise was her father, as well as the one who gave her the name Cordelia, had left her to her own devices while she grew up.
It was much later that the reason became clear—she'd been created in a hurry after that one—Oriana, that was her name—was taken away by their eldest. The pedigree of their bloodline was in their range of genetic enhancements. And those were the culmination of decades' worth of painstaking collaboration between Aiken Eldfell and the Illusive Man. The pact had been signed and sealed in blood ages ago—Eldfell must offer one of his daughters as payment for the effort Cerberus put into his personal project. The first successful test subject had been slated to be that sacrificial lamb, but she'd run away and took Oriana with her. And so the hammer fell on Cordelia.
She learned about all this only years later. In retrospect, if Cordelia could go back in time to ask Eldfell one question, it would be why name her after the only virtuous daughter of a king abandoned by his two eldest when he had already giving her up as a lost cause—thus setting her to fail right from the start?
Granted, he didn't ill-treat her, she was fed, clothed, and given an education as far as that went. The lack of peers had chaffed, and like Oriana, she'd thought how great it would've been if she had siblings. All that changed when she was handed over to Cerberus.
From pampered prisoner to lab rat, the transition had been shocking to the point where she questioned if she was two people leading totally different lives.
Cordelia didn't even know that she was simply the latest in a production line of clones until she went into Cerberus's care. Educating her, giving her the skills to fend for herself was nowhere on the list of priorities. Her minder was a mid-level scientist, Chatwin who resented having her placed in his care. Taunting her had been a daily pastime for him.
"Too bad you aren't as useful as your sister, huh?" He'd tossed out casually back in the early days.
That was the first sign she'd gotten that others existed. Access to the extranet and the Cerberus network was obtained by childish wheedling, and when she grew up, other special services for Chatwin. When she rebuffed his advances, his modus operandi had been to threaten her access. He knew how much they meant to her—they were her only links to the outside world.
Through the network, she'd learned of the oldest—Miranda Lawson's existence and her place in the organisation. In the early days, Cordelia had read avidly and extensively mission briefs and extracts of her reports, trying to imagine the personality and the voice behind the written words. It became an obsession, based on the reasoning that if she was as good, then perhaps she could change her destiny, escape the role she was forced into to become as valuable an operative.
Cordelia had tried every means available to send out a message of her own existence but to no avail. She'd gritted her teeth as she tracked her oldest twin's meteoric rise through the ranks, even though as time went on, there were less and less reports to read as Lawson was tasked with more important missions.
As she grew older and the conditions of what would be a lifetime of incarceration in the hands of her jailers became clear, that admiration had turned to despair and envy and finally into pure hatred.
How could you? She wanted to rage. Nothing could redeem Lawson in her eyes, ignorance included. Still, Cordelia had persevered in studying as much as she could of her, knowing that in the event she was finally free, those skills would come into good use. Except the last firefight had proven that intensive understudying wasn't the answer if she didn't have the proper training or experience.
Hours later, as she walked away from the burning laboratory in a daze, all she could think of was curse the prescience of Kai Leng's words.
You were not good enough.
She'd set off a spectacular display. Hobart would find itself short of a genetic centre tomorrow morning. She had lingered far too long, laughed as the flames licked the shattered building while the fire sirens wailed overhead. But it was worth every second. There absolutely had to be an event to commemorate the news she'd gotten.
So this was all it came down to—irony in such bucketloads that it would build a tower as high as Eldfell's private playground. All these years, she'd set her sight on returning to the one place where she had actually been happy. And now that dream had totally unravelled. The victory, even if she won this particular gambit, would be forever poisoned.
I can't change my origins, but they aren't the only thing that defines me.
Cordelia had been ready to scoff when Oriana had droned on like a greeting card. What would you know, she had wanted to demand when Kai Leng interrupted them. Such pathetic platitudes were so laughable, especially coming from the one who'd managed to keep her hands cleanest in this entire debacle.
But the message had rung true even if the messenger was flawed. And unfortunately for Cordelia, her origins were the only thing that defined her.
As a scientist, Chatwin had been middling, but he could read her as though he had x-ray vision into her heart. With pinpoint precision, he knew exactly where her insecurities laid and he took great delight in prodding them, needle-like, turning them to festering wounds that continued to plague her to this day.
"Well, we're creating more of you." He told her jovially one day. "Want to take a look?"
He'd sneaked her in on a tour of what he dubbed the nursery, rows and rows of tanks filled with developing foetuses. He'd laughed at the look of horror on her face when she came to realise that they were copies of her.
"Looks like the old version is outdated. I'll miss you, but it can't be helped. There's no innovation without change."
Cerberus had pounced on the fact that she was a biotic who hadn't been exposed to eezo pre-natally. The next obvious step was to replicate that. For the first few years after that, Cordelia had lived in fear that she would become replaceable, which would subject her to more demeaning treatment from people like Chatwin. In the end, the children had failed to manifest biotic powers, and the fate she'd feared fell on them instead.
She could still hear their cries if she forgot and listened too hard. That usually happened in the dead of the nights, when the rattling heater died yet again, and the motel room grew deadly cold and silent as a tomb. Far better to burn in fire, and for every bomb she set, every conflagration that consumed and burned, she imagined that the smoke and embers would speed them off faster to a place they finally belonged.
Everything would come to an end soon enough. Once the Alliance alerted by Kai Leng came to reinforce their numbers, Cordelia would find a way to eliminate all existing versions of herself and make sure that no more new ones were created. Her final act would be to destroy her identity, and take on the one of whom she hated the most. It would be fitting—considering she'd never known who she really was all these years.
After all, they were made to be dispensable.