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Shepard's heart pounded hard in her chest at the sound of Miranda's voice as it trailed over the comm system. The feeling of dread that washed over her, almost made the attempt at a response unbearable. "This is Commander Shepard," she managed in a surprisingly steady and stonewalled voice.

The other woman breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad we found you."

"I'm not sure the feeling is mutual just yet," Shepard responded bitterly.

"Relax, Shepard. We're on your side," another familiar voice emanated from the comm link. It was Jacob Taylor.

"I'm sure you noticed by now that you're being trailed by Cerberus," Miranda cut in. "Jacob and I are here to cover your tracks."

"You're piloting a Cerberus vessel. How can I be sure you're on our side?" the Commander pointed out.

"There's not much time to explain right now, Shepard. We were able to hack into the frigate's systems and disable their weapons, but that won't last. I'm sending you the coordinates to a Bok globule not far from here. You'll need to get there, activate the Normandy's stealth systems, and fall into drift."

"This is a waste of time," Saren chimed in irritably.

He was right. Every moment wasted meant more people that wouldn't survive against the Reapers. "Can't we just fight them off?"

"No chance. They'll have backup here soon."

"Why not just activate the stealth systems now?"

"Afraid not, Shepard. That frigate was designed specifically for seeking out stealth ships. It has high visuals in every sector."

"Shit!" she cursed, slamming her fist onto the consol. Joker, taking note of the Commander's genuine frustration, held back his sarcastic remark. "Fine. Joker, get us to that nebula. Miranda. Jacob. Make sure you're prepared to board the Normandy as soon as we start to drift."

"Understood," Miranda replied.

The Normandy had been drifting through the small dark nebula, undetected, for several hours. Still the radar was picking up several Cerberus vessels circling the area. They weren't giving up. With their speed of drift and the extremely cold temperatures of the globule, their stealth could possibly last up to a week. The interior of the ship was rather cold for the time being. However eventually, the heat would begin to build up in the Normandy's heat sinks and they would be out of time.

Miranda and Jacob had stayed close by her side since boarding the Normandy. The relief in their expressions was evident. They had apparently been on the run from Cerberus for months, not long after the crew was disbanded and Shepard taken into Alliance custody. Miranda had caught wind that top Cerberus officials were allying themselves with the Reapers. Due to the Illusive Man's insistence that they keep the Human-Reaper hybrid, rather than destroy it, this revelation did not surprise her. Allying themselves with the Reapers would ensure their usefulness and possibly human survival. With all the other races wiped out, humanity would be open to dominate the galaxy. However, the Reapers did not keep allies, they enslaved them. Humanity would see the same fate as the Protheans had so long ago. Indoctrination, however, had a way of warping the truth and forming obsessive loyalties. And with Cerberus corrupted from the top, they would stop at nothing to destroy the one person who was taking the initiative to destroy the ancient race of machines.

"EDI. Notify me when the detection systems have been clear of other ships for at least thirty minutes."

"Yes, Commander," the AI replied.

She regarded the two ex-Cerberus operatives. "So will you be staying with us for a while?"

A pleased smile spread over Miranda's face as she stood opposite the Commander. "If you're asking if we'll be rejoining the team… we wouldn't pass it up for the galaxy. Right Jacob?"

The dark, muscular man nodded determinately. "You got that right. I'm ready for some real action!"

Saren, who had been silently observing from the doorway, narrowed his eyes. He didn't trust these humans. Despite their claims, they were still Cerberus; radical supporters of human dominance over the galaxy. They were the type of people he loathed the most. "There's no room for your kind here," he muttered.

Miranda turned toward the turian and scowled. "You're one to talk, Saren Arterius. You think that our being previously employed by Cerberus even compares to your alliance with the Reapers?"

He growled, low and threatening. "You have no idea what you presume, human. I didn't willingly join a terrorist organization with the intention of dominating over other races. Mine was a choice of survival." Before she could respond with a snide comment, he continued. "I knew the Reapers were coming. I knew of their plans. I had to make a decision."

"You could have warned everyone," Miranda spat.

"Don't you think that I'd considered that?" he shot back. "What good would it have done? It wouldn't have stopped them. Shepard tried to warn everyone and look where we are. Look at your world, human! There was never any stopping them. Faced with that fact, what would you have chosen?"

"So why are you here now?" she questioned, folding her arms before her.

"Because I was made to realize that I had erred. There was no preservation in an alliance with the Reapers. Only slavery and death. But the Reapers don't relinquish such things. They burry deep into your mind and tell you what you want to hear. They twist your perspective and bend you to their will."

Miranda shook her head. "I'd still like to think that I would have decided differently."

"'Like to think' all you want, human. But in the end, all that matters is your own survival," he snapped before stomping away furiously. He was so blinded with rage that he collided with something solid. His eyes became focused on the scarred face of another turian who stared back at him with a hint of surprise. Releasing a hiss, he quickly side-stepped and continued on.

"What's his problem?" Garrus asked when he reached the cockpit.

He knew he didn't like that Cerberus bitch the moment he'd laid eyes on her. Her holier-than-thou attitude was enough to push anyone off the edge. And then she had to go ahead and criticize the worst judgment call he had ever made. At the time, becoming a tool to the Reapers seemed a necessary evil; if not for anything else, but for his own survival. But that way of thinking proved direly false. In no time at all, he went from being the best Spectre the galaxy had ever known, to a presumably dead fugitive. And now he was left with nothing.

He heard the swish of door to the Starboard Observation, but didn't bother to turn around. He didn't even have to acknowledge her image in the window's reflection to know it was her. Her scent alone was enough to give her away. It was a fragrance that stirred up a mixture of feelings; from frustration and jealousy to calm and reverence. She had proven to be both his ruin and his salvation. In a way, he hated her for not killing him nearly three years ago. Instead, she had made him acknowledge his mistake; a mistake she had so fortunately avoided. She had become the best of the best, a position that he had once dominated. While he admired her strength and persistence he hated her ability to out-due him.

"You alright?" Her voice cut through the silence and his dark thoughts.

"Perfectly fine," he uttered in response.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay," was her simple reply.

That's it? he thought irritably. He wondered if she always gave up this quickly with people on her team. Or was it just with him? He was surprised how much that possibility bothered him.

"By the way, Miranda and Jacob are staying," she said after a few moments of silence. "I expect you to be on your best behavior while they're on board." The last part felt like a final stab, her tone almost patronizing.

"I do not take orders from you, Shepard," he snapped.

"Maybe not. However, while you're aboard my ship I highly recommend that you adhere to my rules."

His blood boiled in his veins. No one ever spoke down to him in such a way. If ever they did, they died. "And if I don't?" The scene beyond the window was of pure blackness as the Normandy drifted through the thick dust of the globule.

"I leave you at the next port," she replied calmly.

His mandibles clenched tightly against his face in irritation. How dare she? After all I've done she would be so quick to discard of me? His chest rose and fell heavily as the adrenaline flowed through him. He wasn't being forced to help anyone. He wanted to. And now she was threatening to ditch him. His clawed hands began to shake from the violence that surged through him and, before he could give it a second thought, he turned and lunged at her. A pained grunt escaped her lips as her back slammed against the wall adjacent to the door. The turian's quick reflexes inputted the code to secure it, before the sensors could kick in, sliding the door ajar. Shepard grappled frantically at the hand that fit so easily around her slender neck, pinning her. She attempted to kick at him, but his reach was further than her legs would allow. It pleased him to see her struggle in such a way. Such a powerful and commanding female, subdued by his superior strength. It was invigorating. Her pulse thudded furiously against his palm. However, he was unable to catch any hint of fear in her scent. He leaned toward her, teeth bared threateningly, trying to draw that fear out. However, before he could rethink this action, a biotically-charged force collided with the side of his face, causing him to stagger back in surprise. And, just as his vision began to clear, a sudden pain shot through his stomach like electricity. He released a gasp as the pain and shock subsided. Synthetically enhanced avian eyes shot up to peer into steel grey. A grin that crept over his face met the intensity of her gaze.

"I have waited three years to fight you, Shepard. But you'd never given me the pleasure."

"If you want me to kick your ass that badly, Arterius, then bring it," she taunted in a deadly tone.

Unable to hold back he charged at her again, his speed taking her by surprise. His much larger body barreled into her, tossing her backwards onto the floor. She quickly righted herself back onto her feet and raised her arms to block. He lunged again. This one she anticipated and easily side-stepped to avoid it. As the turian passed by her, she kicked her leg back. The contact her foot made with his backside aided his momentum and he continued forward until impacting with the wall.

He spun to find her smirking at him, her smugness filling him with increasing rage. He released a low snarl as he stared back at her.

"What's wrong, Arterius? Isn't this what you wanted?" she purred.

He straightened, glowering at her. It was what he wanted. Since she had become his rival, he wanted nothing more than to rise above her; to show her she was weaker than he.

"Admit it. You've gotten soft," she scoffed.

Soft? I'll show her soft. He roared in warning, eyes flashing vibrantly. Her grin only grew wider, taunting him. In one swift movement he hunched and charged toward her, full-force. Even though she steadied herself for impact, she wasn't prepared for the extreme power behind his movement nor his prediction of her stance. She felt a sharp pain as several clawed fingers dug into the leg that had supported her, and lifted it from under her. The sudden loss of her structural support threw her off-balance and she toppled backward. Her back hit the floor so hard that her vision hazed over for a few moments. She found it painful to breathe, and when her vision finally cleared, she could see half of the reason. Blue eyes burned into hers like fire. The weight of his body pressed down on her with unyielding force, restricting most of her movements. And, before she could even contemplate raising her arms to push him off, he was quick to pin them to her sides.

Shepard's breath was staggered as she struggled to breathe under the weight of his much larger stature. Her feeble attempts to shift his weight from her were fruitless. He could feel her body growing warmer from her wasted exertion. The situation stirred up a reaction in him that almost shamed him. His lower body tingled and his breath grew heavier as his plates began to shift. He leaned downward, his breath caressing the hot skin of her neck as he breathed in her essence. "I beat you, Shepard," he growled in her ear. "Do you submit to me?"

The intensity in his voice took her by surprise. It wasn't filled with the rage and violence that she had expected, but rather held a tone that closely resembled passion and desire. The rumbling of his voice in her ear caused a shiver to trail over her body, and she silently hoped that he didn't notice. "I will never submit to you," she responded evenly.

Saren noticed the way her body trembled beneath him when he spoke. This excited her; that much was obvious. "I do enjoy a challenge." His growly voice reverberated against her flesh. As he brushed his mandibles against the soft flesh of her neck, he noticed as another tremor erupted under him. Much to his shame, his plates were fully shifted now, his length painfully restricted by his armor. His head was spinning, almost blindingly, as he tried to shake away the frustrations and desires that threatened to overtake him. The way his body was reacting to this human was appalling. He should have felt disgusted… but he didn't. Instead he allowed his tongue lightly stroke against heated flesh. A salty-sweet taste lingered in his mouth. It was almost enjoyable.

Shepard's eyes widened in confusion as something wet and rough slicked across her neck. She wasn't certain what the turian above her was up to, but the sensation took her by surprise. Ripping her arms from his loosened grasp she worked her hands under his chest and shoved hard. It was only enough force to push his upper body away, and he hovered above her, a mixture of anger and confusion in his gaze. The confusion in his features hardened, and he shook his head violently as if attempting to wipe his mind of the situation. In a fury he rose to his feet, turning away as if he could no longer bear to look upon her.

He held a hand against his head, which still spun from unsated desire. What am I doing? a voice from within scolded. Why am I getting this feeling from a human? They're so… He attempted to form the words within his head. Filthy. Ill-mannered. Weak. They were all words he could once easily use to describe the youngest and boldest of the galactic races. But somehow, he couldn't seem to use those words to describe this female. Maybe she was right. Maybe he had become soft… He turned to find her staring at him blankly. A sick feeling welled up in the pit of his stomach. She was disgusted with him, as much as he was with himself. This was clearly a mistake.

"Leave," he ordered, his voice filled with humiliation.

When Shepard began to protest, she was quickly interrupted by a warning growl. Brows knitted in anger, she spun towards the door. She nearly ran face-first into it, expecting it to open at her approach. Realizing that the locks were activated, she fumbled with the code. When the door finally opened, she wasted no time storming from the room.

What the fuck was that all about? she asked herself, still uncertain of what had just occurred behind that door. Saren was acting odd, and she couldn't place her finger on it. One minute he was angry, and the next… well, she didn't know. For a moment, he had seemed almost passionate. She couldn't imagine Saren feeling passionate about anything, especially her.

Her speedy pace took her around the corner to the mess, where she nearly collided with Garrus. She gasped and jumped back in surprise, not expecting her friend's sudden approach. "Sorry Garrus, I wasn't paying attention."

Garrus gazed at her suspiciously. "You okay, Shepard?"

"I'm fine," she replied, almost too quickly.

He studied her for a few brief seconds before he was finally able to pick up the scent that clung to her. The easily-recognizable aroma threw him off-guard and he had to keep himself from gaping at her. It was undeniably turian… and sexual. There was only one other turian aboard, aside from himself, making it easy to pinpoint the source. He felt the rage within him grow as he pondered the possibilities. "Shepard—" he started.

Her grey eyes focused on him questionably. "What is it, Garrus?"

The look upon her features was troubled, making him decide against questioning her at the moment. "Nevermind…" he assured. "Maybe you should relax a bit. You've been under a lot of pressure." He placed his hand on her head and ruffled her hair playfully.

She made a face. "You know I never relax."

"I could send Chakwas after you…" he threatened.

"Fine," she grumbled miserably before ambling toward the elevator.

Saren glared out the wide window, irritated that he was unable to see the stars. For over two years those familiar pulsating lights had been his only regular companionship. Previous to his indoctrination he had never cared to look at them. They had always been just another back-drop to the violence that was his life. But, ever since he had broken free of Sovereign, he enjoyed gazing at them, as if he felt comfort in their constant presence.

As the swish of an opening door filled his ears, his irritation quickly peaked. The scent of another turian quickly emanated into the room. "Leave Vakarian," he warned. Saren stood silently, waiting for the younger turian to take his leave. When he didn't, he turned to face him. As he spun around, his face was promptly met with an angry fist. Plates struck against plates as Garrus's strike met its mark.

What is with people punching me in the face? Saren wondered sourly. He shrugged off the blow and glared at the other turian with brilliant eyes. "Don't start something you're not ready to finish," he growled.

"What did you do to Shepard?" Garrus demanded, skipping straight to the point.

"I did nothing that she didn't want," he responded. Garrus hunched forward, his teeth bared menacingly. He was preparing for an attack, and that's when Saren realized he'd apparently misinterpreted his statement.

"We only fought, Vakarian. Nothing more."

Garrus's rigid stance loosened slightly at his assurance, but he was not thoroughly convinced. His teeth remained bared as he regarded the former Spectre. "Why was your mating scent all over her?"

"A misunderstanding. You know how I feel about humans," Saren sneered.

He was lying and Garrus knew it. The only challenge was making him admit it. Garrus straightened up, no longer taking his offensive stance. His bared teeth formed into a pleased grin. "Good to know you won't be standing in my way, then."

A brief memory of witnessing other turian's last sparring session with the human made his blood boil. "What do you mean?" he snarled.

"Only that I won't have any opposition when I claim her for myself," he declared, baiting him.

Saren snarled, his glare flashing an intense blue. "You stay away from her, Vakarian."

Garrus's grin grew wider. "So you do have an interest in our little human Commander." When Saren didn't respond, it only confirmed his speculations.

"Get out," Saren demanded with deadly calm.

"I'll leave," Garrus assured him. "But before I do, let me make one thing clear. If you so much as touch her without her full consent, I will be the first to gut you."

Before Saren could get over his speechlessness and comprise a response, Garrus had already left.