Author note:
Well, here it is, the end of the story. Sorry this chapter's so short, but it's basically an epilogue. I will be continuing with this universe in another story, which I intend to call 'Mass Effect: Vindication'. I know other people have used it as a title already, but it's actually rather appropriate for my purposes...
Cerberus Custodiis
Miranda watched him on the data terminal in her office, her cerulean blue eyes betraying as much emotion as agates, in spite of the turmoil within.
She hadn't known how to react when she discovered that Shepard wasn't dead, when he had joined the Alliance. From an evolutionary perspective, obviously it was a good thing; genetic biotic potential was something that the human race could certainly use, and his other abilities would certainly help to establish and preserve human dominance, or at the very least security, in the galaxy, if applied correctly.
On a personal level, however, she was torn. She'd liked him to an extent, despite his infuriating paranoia and cynicism, and the fact that he'd been rather less affected by her than she would have liked, yet his survival and sudden reappearance on the galactic stage could only mean one thing; a deal with her father.
She hated him for that, and was disgusted with herself for being surprised. Shepard came before all others, in his world; his own survival was paramount. She knew that one of the stipulations of the deal with her father would be that he could call on the psychopath if necessary, and she knew that he would only do so in two circumstances; if he found her, or her sister. Her father delighted in fabricating such twisted scenarios; it appealed to both the narcissist and the megalomaniac in him. He played chess with the galaxy as his board.
She knew what those scenarios would lead to, as well; she would kill Shepard, or he would kill her. She wasn't going to hold back just because he was possibly the best humanity had to offer. If he killed her and took her sister, he would be worthy to continue and (hopefully) serve humanity's interests, at least as long as they coincided with his own. If not, well, humanity would have a more devoted servant in her, and she would be able to serve her species better, being more worthy of survival.
Darwinism made things simple, in many ways...
But still she wished that it wouldn't turn out that way. A futile hope. She knew that Shepard would survive this little spat with the Alliance; if nothing else her father wouldn't sacrifice such a valuable piece for the sake of convenience.
She doubted even that would be necessary, however, returning her attention to the screen. Shepard was being questioned by the media, and clearly not taking the situation too seriously.
"I am not a xenophobe. Ok, well I am, but I treat humans the same way. I don't discriminate on the basis of species. And another thing. The Butcher of Torfan? Evocative, certainly, but not really my modus operandi. I don't like crudity, there's too much of it in the galaxy even without me contributing. I try to keep things refined. I understand your compulsive urge to try to be evocative, and I can see that Surgeon doesn't have the same negative connotations, but you could at least try for some accuracy..."
Miranda snorted and shook her head, her lips twitching almost involuntarily. He was being charged as a war criminal for what he did to the batarians; he wasn't the only one who found the situation amusing, in an ironic sort of way. Of course, it was all just politics to the Alliance, so desperate for the bloody Council's approval...
The trial was being delayed until the cleanup of Torfan was finished, the funerals had taken place, and the media had been given ample time to milk the story. Apparently, as a gesture of sympathy to the area, the Alliance Admiralty had decided (aka been told by the Council to just do it) to hold the trial on Elysium.
She knew that she would be watching...