A Leader to All

by Broken Orbit

Commander Shepard's death only strengthened her as an icon for humanity, a reality that catapulted her to great heights in the public eye even as she was discredited by the Council. After being resurrected by one of the galaxy's most shadowy organizations, she must again work to challenge an enemy that others refuse to believe exists. AU through a realistic lens, reworked plot.

5. Chapter 4: Minuteman

Author's Note:

What's this, a new chapter of A Leader to All? It's a four-days-after-Christmas miracle!

Joking aside- Yes, I have finally finished it. It's here; all thirteen thousand, nine hundred and thirty-three words of fifth draft. I'm sorry that it had to take so long, but I hope that it is worth it to all those it is read by. As I have little else to say, I shall end this note here. Come back in the end for remarks on the view count and whatnot.

EDIT: I have removed the subtitle, as this chapter is now standalone versus the initial thought of making it only a first-half sort of affair. Thusly, the next shall be titled independently.

---

CHAPTER FOUR: MINUTEMAN

Minuteman Setting Station, Deep Space, Omega Nebula

1032 Hours Terran Coordinated Universal Time, Saturday, August 15th, 2185

After several minutes of careful maneuvering, the CSV Osiris settled into its docking cradle. At Miranda's order, the ship's gantry was extended to the station with the subtle hum of electric motors, and a quiet thump signaled its contact. In a moment, the corridor would be pressurized and safe for transfer of passengers. However, the rest would be more difficult.

Surveillance video from the first passenger compartment showed Shepard's eyes darting around as she sat strapped into her acceleration seat, as if she thought she was going to be attacked at any moment. There was no danger of that; the Cerberus personnel would never lift a finger against her (unless there were more traitors like Wilson, in which case the situation could be very bad indeed), but for the meantime the Commander was still distrustful of anyone wearing the wrong insignia. Jacob was still restrained, too, but at least he didn't have a gun pointing at him anymore. So, there was that. Nothing was really cause for celebration, though, as Shepard still possessed a tool to get what she wanted without working with her benefactors. It was a very inconvenient situation, to say the least.

Not all was bad, though, as Miranda still had some tricks up her sleeve. Strategically revealing information to the Commander without giving too much away would likely make her more interested in what the Director had to say, and the woman's probable anxiousness about what had happened over Alchera would make her easy to exploit. If she proved to be harder to sway than anticipated, however, there were always other options. People to bring in, surprises to show… The next step of the operation was either going to be very interesting, or very tough for all involved. The Director just hoped that things would happen on her terms, rather than those of her subject.

As such, Miranda had arranged for a small group of armed men to go into the Osiris for hostage negotiations. She would attend, of course, but it could never hurt to have an escort when it came to speaking with armed belligerents. She would first try to de-escalate and be as kind as possible (even if it was unusual for her- she could be a good actor when she wanted to be), but if Shepard wouldn't listen there were several more direct options to choose from. Feeding in knockout gas from the ventilation ducts wasn't beyond the scope of possibility, nor was shooting her gun hand and tranquilizing her if need be. Heaven forbid that any such drastic action be necessary, though, as that would mean that one: Shepard would be uncooperative, and therefore useless, and two: Shepard could be wounded in some manner- further delaying the recovery process. However, if anything like that happened, the Illusive Man could very well be more receptive to Miranda's ideas on chemically conditioning the Commander to be obedient.

Provided that nothing bad happened, though, Jacob would be released for debriefing without a scratch. Then, Shepard would immediately receive a full medical examination. Miranda wanted to know everything about the woman's physical state, beyond what could be seen externally, and so linking her cybernetics to Minuteman Station's medical systems would need to be done. It was possible that her health had been damaged by the experience aboard Lazarus Station, which could have unknown effects upon her both physically and mentally. For all that the Director knew, Shepard could be just fine bodily, but her mind could be a mess of chemical and hormone imbalances that would make her unstable. She'd just woken up from an artificial coma, after all, which would be hard on anyone- especially when it was considered that she'd gone through it completely without medical assistance. It was entirely possible that treatment could be in order.

If all was well, though, Miranda could have Shepard through the initial examination and on to the debriefing with minimal hassle. Of course, this banked on the more optimistic possibility of the woman being mentally and bodily stable, as well as being convinced to let Jacob go. The Director wasn't sure how likely that was to happen, but if it did, then pretty soon her recently-awakened responsibility would be speaking to the Illusive Man himself. If she believed him about the Collectors and could trust Cerberus enough to work with them, then it was in the bag. If not, then that was that. No way to know which until they tried.

Miranda checked again with the Osiris' captain (a lucky save from Lazarus Station's crew quarters) to ensure that the vessel was ready to start offloading, and then ordered for the "head ashore" alert to sound in the passenger cabins. Once all of the staff were cleared out, the Director Could have her meeting. Although she wasn't about to let anyone see it, she really had her fingers crossed over it. Shepard was everything, and to fail at the most basic but critical moment of simply getting her to cooperate would be unacceptable. She had her work cut out for her, indeed.

---

The ship had been maneuvering for just over five minutes, the short, staccato pops of attitude thrusters making it obvious that the vessel's crew was making adjustments for docking. They sure were taking their time, though, which wasn't doing anything to help Jennifer's nerves. After several more minutes of it, a telltale whoomph reverberated throughout the compartment. The ship had just settled into some kind of docking fixture, undoubtedly attached to the "Minuteman Station" that the Director had described. The lights brightened, and several screens on the walls started displaying an unbuckling symbol for everyone to get out of their seats. That was when things got scary.

When one is attempting to hold a hostage, proximity to said hostage is a must. The Security Captain was sitting right next to Shepard, but both of them were strapped down in acceleration chairs, making it hard for her to get up and moving and therefore difficult to regain control of him. If the people around her (many of whom had been giving her odd looks for the extent of the time they were onboard the transport) decided to attack and seize her, then would be the most opportune moment. When she was in the middle of getting out of an unfamiliar harness, her hands were occupied and therefore away from her weapon. She was immobile, and her hostage was out of reach.

She was vulnerable. However, no-one moved against her. Instead, the Cerberus personnel slowly removed their harnesses and got up with a low buzz of conversation. Nothing particularly enthusiastic or conspicuously quiet, and they didn't seem to be making any efforts to be unassuming either. Jennifer quickly unclipped the strap that was going across the tops of her legs, undoing the groin strap that passed through a loop on its underside and hooked into the main harness. That just left the torso system, which all came apart with a press of a button on the central quick-release mechanism. She shrugged off the straps, and they withdrew to their spring-tensioned ports on the seat.

Shepard retrieved the handgun from where she had placed it between herself and the side of the chair, holding it nonthreateningly but readily enough to react if somebody tried to make a move on her. As she made to disconnect Jacob's harness, a man's voice came over intercom in the ceiling.

"Passenger Compartments One and Two, you are clear to disembark. Reporting stations shall be transferred presently." That got everyone moving towards the door, but they stopped to listen when something else was added: "Commander Shepard and Security Captain Taylor are advised to remain in their compartment for negotiations. Please stand by for the arrival of relevant personnel."

It didn't take long for most of the compartment's inhabitants to file out the wide, vacuum-sealed double door set at the end of the room. What was interesting, though, was watching them reverse something that everyone had done while going in: walking up onto a curving ramp that changed one's orientation so much so that they were facing sideways versus the deck where they had begun. All this was possible due to the wonders of artificial gravity, and its purpose was to allow personnel entering and leaving to access a curved walkway that was set sideways into the forward wall of the ramp room. The walkway interfaced with a long hall in the ship's spine, which led all the way down to the docking port on the nose. Simple, but efficient and rather entertaining to watch. One didn't normally get to see other people standing on the wall as if supported by magic, regardless as to how up and down meant nothing in space.

Quickly bored with the spectacle, Jennifer turned about to set Jacob free. His cuffed hands were held in place by the interfaced leg and groin straps, preventing him from moving his arms, but that was changed once Shepard removed the rest of the harness. She helped him to get up, although never quite pointing the muzzle of her handgun far away from him. He noticed, and the two kept a tense silence as they waited for whoever was going to show up.

Truth be told, Jennifer truly hated playing the hostage game. It was a very bad way of negotiation for all sides involved, and made it very easy for someone (or multiple someones, depending) to end up dead. She was only really holding on to Jacob as an asset for her protection, as he was the only reason that Cerberus couldn't just have its way with her. Despite all of what had been said previously, what with them not having any harmful intent, once he was freed then she was powerless. Holding one of the organization's members (a relatively important, one, too, seeing that he wasn't expendable enough to trade for her) captive gave her the ability to learn and negotiate at an advantage as long as they were willing to yield. She was their goal, anyway, which made having Jacob at her mercy all the more important.

It was unfortunate that Jennifer had to hold the man captive, but hopefully he understood that it wasn't personal. If Cerberus managed to come up with a deal of some sort and/or make her trust them, then he would walk free in a heartbeat. For the moment, though, he was a good tool. That made her think, though… Why was it that he hadn't resisted so much before? He'd had an opportunity to escape, but he hadn't taken it. Why?

The opportunity had been when she'd wrestled him into submission in the ward, from the point that she'd tackled him to when she recovered his pistol from the floor. She'd only had her scalpel at that point, and he was a biotic- the telltale implant markings at the base of his skull proved it. He could very well have pushed her off by generating an expanding barrier around himself, and he would have been pretty safe provided that Shepard didn't get her hands on his gun. By that point, though, he could have shot her with the taser hooked to his side. So, why didn't he do something?

It was possible that he was too surprised to act, but he should have been able to recover his senses by the time that Shepard had him pinned. Maybe he was afraid he wouldn't be able to make it strong enough around his neck before she cut it, or maybe he thought she'd be able to dislocate his shoulder before he could push out of her hold. Maybe he just wanted to de-escalate, and Cerberus' intent with her really wasn't all that bad. Maybe not, and she was just misunderstanding what had been a heat-of-the-moment mistake on his part. It was impossible to know unless she asked, but… it really didn't matter. There were a hundred other things she could learn from talking to the man, and it probably wouldn't be long before the negotiators showed up. If she was going to be asking any questions, the most important ones had to take priority.

"Hey, Jacob?" She said, bringing the man from his trance of numbly staring at the deck.

"Yes, Commander?" He replied, looking surprised to have been spoken to at all. Setting aside the curious fact that he had just addressed her honorifically, she continued on to the real matter.

"Your 'Director' mentioned that I was important to Cerberus, earlier. Why?" The man seemed to consider the question, and took a moment to answer.

"Honestly," he started, seeming indecisive. "I can't tell you. The Director only wants to release information when it's necessary, and I'm not about to go against her orders." Shepard pointedly turned the pistol over in her hand, and Jacob swallowed nervously. "Don't get me wrong, Commander," he said, raising his cuffed hands to chest level in an attempt at a calming gesture. "I respect you, and I think you have a right to know. However, the Director disagrees, and if she doesn't want me to say anything, then I won't."

"If you guys want me to cooperate with you so badly, then why aren't you telling me anything?" Jennifer demanded. "It doesn't help!" The man's refusal to talk could become problematic, and time was still ticking. She had no way to know when the negotiators would arrive, and she remained clueless as to what was going on- besides the fact Cerberus thought she was important enough to go out of their way to get her.

"Sorry, Commander," Jacob said. "It's just OPSEC. You're not really on our side right now, and unless that changes we're not gonna let you know anything we don't need you to. After all, you are holding me hostage. It's easy to assume you aren't about to openly cooperate."

"Alright, think of it this way." Jennifer crossed her arms and sank into a hip, making an effort to look a little less threatening. "I need to know what's going on here, or otherwise I won't understand whether or not Cerberus has good intentions. In that case, I wouldn't trust you so much, and there would be less of a chance that I'd cooperate. But, if you tell me what all the fuss is about- and it doesn't involve anything bad- then I might consider working with your friends. You understand?" The Security Captain seemed to mull it over for a second, and then looked back at her with indecision.

"I guess it couldn't hurt, really, but still. If I say anything to you about this operation, then it'll be my head if something goes wrong. Even if you do decide to cooperate, though, I'll probably still get in trouble for violating procedure. Big risk my way, but…" The man trailed off, and Jennifer watched as resolve came into his expression. "You know what?" He said, seeming frank. "I still think you deserve some understanding on all this. Okay, what do you want to know?"

"Well, um, thank you." Jennifer said, straightening. "That's a convenient change of pace." She looked over the Security Captain's shoulder at a monitor on the opposite wall, and noted that three minutes had passed since the compartment had been emptied. She had to start asking questions fast- if they were on the ball, the negotiators were probably near on arriving. "Alright, I still want to know why Cerberus values me so much. Am I some kind of bargaining chip, or do y'all really expect me to work with you for some reason?"

"The latter," Jacob answered, adopting a bit of a nervous grin. "I know it sounds crazy, like, why would you want to help out a bunch of terrorists, you know? Well, we're not like that, really." He must have sensed Shepard's urge to correct him, because he quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, it's not just Cerberus that needs your help. There's a threat to all of humanity out there, and the Illusive Man thinks that you're the best bet we have in fighting it."

"Do you mean the Reapers?" Asked the Commander, confused by the line of logic apparent in the man's statement. "Because I can tell you that I myself am not the galaxy's most useful asset against giant evil robots from space."

"Well, honestly," Jacob began, looking somewhat sheepish. "I don't know what that 'threat' is. It could be the Reapers, but I haven't heard the name mentioned. Regardless, it's legitimate. Otherwise, Cerberus wouldn't have gone through all the trouble it did to bring you here." It wasn't hard to come up with a number of reasons why the organization might find Shepard to be a good source of information when it came to the Reapers, but she still didn't see why that should make her important enough for what she'd seen so far. Regardless, things seemed to match up with the Security Captain's explanation rather easily.

"How about the Normandy, though?" Jennifer asked. "Cerberus must have grabbed me out of there, so what happened to everyone else?" Jacob looked hesitant again for a second, and then answered.

"Well, from what I heard about it, most of your crew survived. Just about everybody out of the shift working your CIC got spaced, but the ones in the other decks were okay for the most part. Whoever blew up your ship left them alone, and the Alliance picked them up later." Provided that the man was being truthful (and Shepard had no concrete reason to believe he wasn't), what he said dismissed some of her worst fears about the incident.

"Okay," Shepard said. "Good. I was worried about that." The relief that she felt showed on her face, apparently, as Jacob responded with a slight grin- contrary to his previously nervous appearance. Perhaps he was starting to think that he was gaining her favor, and that therefore she wasn't as distrusting of him as before. It was true. The man had served his purpose, and pleasantly surprised her in more ways than one. She just hoped that his attitude at least somewhat reflected those held by his employers. If that was the case, then things might be much easier come time for the negotiations. If not, then she would find out one way or another.

Considering such a fact, Jennifer thought it might be useful to de-escalate the situation further. The more mutual trust that could be afforded between her and Cerberus, the better- and even though she was having difficulty being confident she wasn't going to be stabbed in the back, she wanted to believe that there was a way out of the predicament that didn't involve anything too unpleasant. Jacob being held as a hostage likely wasn't doing much to reduce that probability, and if anything was only postponing it. At that point, he mostly represented a possible olive branch to be used later- his release would likely help relations along, and considering what had been said already, it was quite possible that it wouldn't be so harmful of a decision. With the prospect of whether or not to attempt keeping the man around being settled, just when to let him go remained an issue.

As it turned out, Shepard really didn't have a choice. Just after she spoke to Jacob, the distinctive sound of boots against deck plating began to come into hearing. There were multiple sets of footsteps, and they sounded heavy- most likely a group of men, armed and armored. Display of force for the negotiations, probably. The alternatives were unsavory to consider.

Jennifer stepped closer to her hostage as the first two figures appeared from the hallway, stepping out onto the orienting ramp in the next room and proving her to be correct. They were both male, clad in black armor and carrying rifles. Their helmet visors were mirrored, masking their faces and intent, but they kept their muzzles pointed downwards as the rest of the group exited into the passenger compartment. The next person behind them was none other than the Director herself, looking tidied up and once again possessing her own handgun. Two more escorts followed behind her, and eventually the five were lined up at the far end of the room, blocking the exit. It was time to talk.

---

Miranda looked over her subject appraisingly, noting how she still gripped Jacob's handgun like a lifeline. She probably didn't trust Cerberus one bit, but by the way that their conversation had seemed, she had warmed up some to the Security Captain. As displeasing as it had been, his disclosure of information on the mission had likely calmed things down a little; and if they were lucky, then Shepard was becoming more curious than she was cynical. The success of the project could very well depend on it.

"Hello, Commander," Miranda began, stepping forward from her team. The woman regarded her warily, although the armed men behind her seemed to be more worrisome. Her gaze kept jumping between them, analyzing, as she kept her handgun pointed at Jacob's head. He didn't seem fazed, and quite frankly neither was the Director. She was confident that Shepard wasn't about to hurt the man, given the circumstances.

"I trust that you got what you needed from your chat, here?" Miranda asked, trying to feel out the Commander's disposition. She was unreadable, but had likely expected that Cerberus would hear what was said before. Either she considered it a necessary sacrifice in the pursuit of information, or she wanted to give off a certain image to the organization. She was smart, and the Director wouldn't put it past her to try and shape others' perceptions to fit her goals. Jacob, on the other hand, was a bit of an open book. His demeanor and expression made it obvious that he understood his disclosure was wrong, and he was expecting to pay for it at some point. He's get his, but at that moment the priority was separating him from Shepard.

"It certainly helped," the Commander said, "although I'd assume that you aren't willing to help complete the picture for me." Should she be? No. Jacob had already spoken enough, and Shepard was obviously interested enough to ask her despite what the man had already said. Denying the woman further information would force her to make a choice.

"Correct," Miranda stated, nodding. "I don't happen to share the Captain's opinions on the free use of information, despite how much you mean to us."

"Very well," the Commander remarked, her face setting into a frown as she appeared to think things over. After a moment, she took her pistol away from Jacob's head. Its muzzle wandered forward as Shepard examined it in her palm, making the Director's escorts shift audibly, but then it moved away as the woman dropped its magazine into her left hand. She ejected its loaded cartridge into the same palm, allowed the slide to close and then placed the empty handgun into Jacob's holster. She slid the magazine into a pouch on the front of the Security Captain's belt, and then gave back the taser that she had stuffed into a heat-pack pocket on her surgery gown. Last of all, the scalpel came out, and was stuffed handle-first into a portion of the accessory webbing on the man's plate carrier. Shepard had fully disarmed herself, but didn't yet step away from her hostage.

"Um," she said, examining the device around Jacob's wrists with a hint of confusion. "What's the code for these cuffs? Are they data-linked?"

"The unit's connected to my omni-" the Security Captain began, but Miranda interrupted him.

"Not necessary, Commander," she said, waving up the guards from her right. "We can take care of him, once you hand him over." Shepard took a step away, and the man nodded respectfully to her as he strode forward to be received by his superior's escort. The Director flashed him a cold 'we'll talk later' look as he was led past her and out into the next room, and then gestured to her subject to get moving. "Come with us, now. You're slated for a check-up next, and then we'll debrief you afterwards."

The woman stepped forwards with little hesitation, evidently having made up her mind, and fell in line between Miranda's two remaining men. The group made their way into the next room and up the reorienting ramp (always a somewhat uncomfortable experience with one's eyes open), passing through the curved corridor and into the long hall down the ship's spine. With this came a several-degree drop in temperature, due to the flood of cool air moving into the vessel via the docking connection. With it came the natural stink that could be associated with the situation of many dozen (or hundred) people all being bottled up in the same enclosed space for an extended period of time, even despite all of the cleaning and air filtration systems aboard the station. Every spacecraft or other entity out in the great vacuum had its own unique, pungent odor (with Minuteman being no exception), and since Miranda had been in the same place for months, it was striking. Its effect would wear off with time, though, especially considering the distractions at hand.

The long walk down to the Osiris' nose finally ended in the extended gantry, leading directly between the station and the ship. A set of articulated deck panels brought the Director and her accompaniment through to the entry lock, which opened to a large reception area servicing a cluster of Alliance-standard docking interfaces on the station's outer hull. There were two more like it, but that one was the most opportune- And not only that, but it prevented the Commander from getting an early view of what might be one of the most important things that Cerberus had prepared for her. That was not to come then, though, as Miranda still needed many other things to be done. How convenient it was, then, that the man in charge of the physical examination was already present and waiting for her.

"Hello, Director!" Greeted a certain Cerberus physiatrist, straightening as he saw her exit the airlock. He was tall and skinny, with close-cropped brown hair and a trim goatee framing his narrow face. He was a sharp-witted and knowledgeable man, and a perfect fit for the job that Miranda had given him. As Shepard and the two guards came up alongside the Director, he grew visibly excited, and even more so when the Director prompted her subject go and meet with him. As soon as she neared and cautiously put out her hand, he shook it vigorously.

"Commander, it is very good to meet you!" He exclaimed, then sobering somewhat. "Sorry, I'm Doctor Joseph McRamie. I hope you forgive the behavior- I've been looking forward to this opportunity for a good while, now." He let go, and then turned towards his superior. "Director," he asked, "how much does she know?"

"The Captain didn't tell her much," Miranda stated, "but don't do any unnecessary talking with her before she's debriefed, alright?"

"Sure thing," he said. At that, the Director left her guards with them and started off to Minuteman Station's Quantum Entanglement Communicator. Speaking with Jacob would come later, as much more important things were at hand.

---

Doctor McRamie was a bit of a strange fellow, but he seemed decent enough. Despite how his initial impression had reminded Jennifer a bit of Conrad Verner, he quickly shifted into work mode as soon as introductions were made. He waved off the Director's guards after they had escorted the two to his lab, which was deep within the station but conveniently-placed enough so that she could still remember how to get back to the docking area. It was useful to know that sort of information, in case she ended up needing it in the future.

The room was rather large and very well lit, and connected to a short hallway at one end that branched off to a few other rooms. An examination table- similar to the one that Jennifer had woken up on- stood in the center of the room, surrounded by medical machines. A small desk was pulled off to one side of it, and nearby a large counter/cabinet arrangement wrapped around two of the room's walls. Doctor McRamie gestured for Shepard to sit down on the examination table, and then came up alongside it to turn on one of the machines.

"You're not putting anything under my skin," she warned. The doctor hesitated for a second, and then stopped what he was doing to turn towards her.

"It's not my intent," he said. "I'm just going to be taking readings to make sure you're healthy. If there aren't any problems, you'll be free to go to the debriefing."

"What makes you think there might be 'problems?'" Jennifer asked, fully aware of how sickly she must have looked.

"Well," McRamie said, "you did get blown up, recently. I'd say that there are a few health risks associated with such an event."

"How recent was it? Just curious."

"I'm sure you know that I can't answer that," he stated. "So, please, just stop asking questions before we both get frustrated." He turned away to pull what looked like a data cord from a reel on the side of the table. "Turn your head, please," he said. "I need to plug this in."

"Is that going to my implant?" Shepard asked. The man nodded.

"That's correct," he said, leaning forward to grasp Jennifer's forehead. She kept her head still, and felt a scraping feeling as the connector slid into the metal port at the base of her skull. Its insertion brought an unfamiliar coldness to the tissue surrounding the port, and as the cord went the last of the way in, it clicked. McRamie let go, stepping away with his hands on his hips. "And that's it!" He said. "That's all I need to do. No more cords, no instruments, no needles. Now, I just have to pull your vitals, ask you a few questions, and then you're free to go."

"Really?" Jennifer asked, confused. "Because I would have thought there'd be more to this than that."

"Well," the doctor answered, adopting a humorous expression. "I could always go and look up your nose with an otoscope, or whack your knees with a hammer if you'd like." Either the McRamie had missed the point of her question, or he had ignored it.

"No, really- How's connecting to my implant supposed to help you get info on my health? I'd at least think a pressure cuff would be involved." McRamie's smile faltered.

"Oh. Well, we connected a monitor to it to tell us the state of your body at any given time. Temperature, blood pressure, oxygen content, the works."

"You guys messed around with my implant?" She said, incredulous. "You'd better not have unplugged anything in there."

"Commander," he said, "I assure you it's alright. We took our time." Hm. She'd believe him when she saw proof, but for the moment it wasn't worth the trouble to worry about it. If Cerberus really had screwed it up, she would find out eventually.

"Okay," she began. "Are we ready to get started, yet? You said you wanted to look at that stuff, so let's get going."

"Yes, right. Let's begin." Doctor McRamie sat down at the desk and tapped a button on its surface, a holographic display flashing up instantaneously. He navigated through a series of screens until he reached one showing a multitude of different readouts, although Jennifer couldn't quite tell what they were from the side. He spent a few moments reading through them, went to several other windows, back again, and then closed the display. "Everything checks out," he said. You're looking good. One thing, though- How are your biotics working?"

"Not too well," she said. "When I was on that other station, I tried to pull up a barrier a few times. Couldn't do it."

"That's what I thought," McRamie said. "Your implant seemed to show your nerves as being responsive to stimulation, but if you can't control it, then that raises some issues." He paused, seeming to contemplate it, and she almost said something rude about his statement on Cerberus "taking their time" with her implant. He spoke again, though, interrupting the remark before it could be uttered. "No matter," he said. "We'll figure it out later. For now, I need you to answer some more questions for me."

"Like what?" She asked, annoyed.

"Well, I need to see how your memory is working. You were just in a coma, and so I need to make sure it didn't have any adverse effects beyond what I can see."

"Fair enough," Jennifer said, crossing her arms. "What do you want to know?"

"Are you having any trouble with your memory?" McRamie asked. "Any gaps, say, in recent time?"

"No," she stated. "Everything from when the Normandy got hit is pretty sharp, all the way up until the end…" She paused, remembering the blinding light, the dull crack- "How did you guys get a hold of me, anyway?" Shepard asked. "What kind of state was I in?"

"I can't tell you," answered McRamie, dismissing her question. "Anyways, could you please think back a bit? How well can you remember early things, like your childhood?"

"About as well as you'd expect. Pretty faint, although some things stand out. Why are you asking about that?"

"Well," he started. "Sometimes, amnesia- particularly from traumatic events and long-time sedation- can affect long-term memory without making you lose more recent experiences. Say, you might forget really important things from when you were younger, but then still be able to recite all of your financial and personal information with no problem at all."

"I'm not having any issues," Jennifer stated. "So, you don't need to waste your time." The doctor looked contemplative for a moment, and then nodded in assent.

"Alright," McRamie said. "If you say so. I have a rather large list of questions that I was supposed to ask you, to make sure that you are still holding onto specific details, but if you're confident that everything is sound, then we can get rid of it."

"Really?" Shepard asked, surprised that a man in his position would so freely disobey his superiors' expectations. Regardless, if he was able to fudge it well enough, it could be one less thing she would have to do before she could figure out what was going on with the world. "I appreciate it," she told him, the statement being genuine.

"No problem," the doctor replied. "It was going to take a long time to ask you everything, anyway, and to be honest I don't care to do it. The real interesting business is going to start once you get to the debriefing, and the sooner it starts the better. Before then, though, let me get that out of you." He came over from his desk, reached behind her head and slowly pulled out the cord. He paused for a second, looking at her shoulder, and then held up a finger in realization. "Oh!" he said. "I almost forgot- There's a set of clothes I'm supposed to give you. Has to be warmer than that gown." He walked quickly towards one of the cabinets attached to the wall, opened it up and pulled out a bundle of clothing. A pair of thin fabric shoes was placed on top of it, and it soon ended up in her arms. "There's a washroom behind the second door on the left, up through the hallway. You can change in there, and once you come out I can have you escorted to meet with the Director."

Jennifer nodded to the man, and then wordlessly got up to approach the door. The lights switched on automatically as she shut it, revealing a cramped room with the standard affair of lavatory implements. Without paying the place another glance, she quickly removed her gown. The clothing that Cerberus gave her consisted of a bland set of undergarments, with a well-fitted grey jumpsuit making up the rest. It had a Cerberus logo on the left shoulder, which Shepard found distasteful, but she couldn't do anything about it. The shoes fit snugly, making it more obvious that they (and the rest of the clothing) were specifically sized for her. Considering their make, though, they were probably intended to be temporary.

As Jennifer stepped out the door, she spotted Doctor McRamie at his desk. He was typing out a document of some kind, presumably a report on the check-up, but halted his work when he noticed her.

"Hello, Commander!" he greeted. "I see you're now fully clothed. How does everything fit?"

"Just fine," she answered, shrugging. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, if I don't," the doctor said, "someone else will. Those have been dimensioned just for you, and so the guys that did it would probably want to know if they did it right."

"I figured that was the case." Shepard stated. "Anyhow, I guess that they did a good job." The two stood a moment with little else to say, and McRamie almost went back to his computer before Jennifer asked another question: "Hey," she said. "When am I going to that debrief? You talked about an escort a few minutes ago?"

"Oh, yes," he recalled. "I talked to the Security station while you were busy in there, and a couple of officers are coming to get you right now. They should be here any minute."

"Alright, good," she said. "You got any info for me on the meeting? What does the Director want out of it?"

"I'm not at liberty to tell you, but I have to tell you should listen to everything she has to say. It's really important that things go well in this-" He gestured encompassingly with his hands- "time period. There are lots of things at stake, and not just for Cerberus, so please try to consider our position fairly." Jennifer was going to ask him what he meant about 'considering their position' when a sharp knock sounded from the door. McRamie stood up quickly to open it, and doing so revealed a pair of station guards like those from the negotiation before.

"Well, that was pretty convenient," Shepard remarked. The doctor smirked at the observation, nodding in agreement as she got up to approach her escort. Before she could exit the room, though, McRamie caught her shoulder. "If I'm correct, Commander," he said, "you'll be seeing me again soon. Wish you well." Then, he ushered her through the door. It closed, and the guards gestured for her to start walking. They were on their way.

---

The Illusive Man's office was dimly lit, with most of the illumination coming from the various holographic displays projected for use by the Cerberus leader. It was times like that of the present in which he liked to keep himself apart from distractions, with his business arrayed about him and free for attention. He had just recently put out one of his habitual cigarettes, an indulgence that helped him to deal with the stress associated with being one of the most important men in galactic politics, although he had refrained from taking another. Instead, his attention was focused on the holographic form of his most recent visitor.

"Director," he said. "I can see why you'd be dissatisfied about his disclosure to Shepard, and to a point I agree with you, but- I would say that, considering the results, Operative Taylor made a good choice." He leaned back in his sleek metal throne, inviting a response from his subordinate.

"I concede your point, sir," Miranda said. "Do you wish to discuss anything more, regarding the situation with the Commander?"

"No," he said. "I am sure that you have things under control. However, I would like to speak with you in respect to what you're going to do following her examination by Doctor McRamie. You do think that she is in good health, yes?"

"I can't really say for sure," the Director stated, "but judging by her performance before now, that would seem to be the case. Despite that, though, our thoughts on the state of her biotics at least appear to be true. I never once saw her use them, which most likely means that she'll require... therapy." The Illusive Man frowned in similar disappointment, and then drew a cigarette from a holder in the arm of his chair. He lit it in an electrical igniter, taking in a long drag, and then exhaled the sweet fumes slowly through his mouth.

"Indeed?" He said, finally. "So, we are forced to continue with our plan with the Matriarch. I will send her to you once my security fleet determines the relay is safe, and then you can begin the therapy schedule that was prepared for this occasion." He typed a short message into one of his displays, sent it, and then closed the window. "Director," he said, leaning forward. "I need to know if you can get this done with what you have. I'm confident that the Matriarch will be a valuable addition to your assets, but you lost a lot of useful people today. Can you still meet the timeline that I set for you?" The woman looked down at floor for a moment, thinking, and then looked up again with greater resolve.

"Yes, sir," she said. "Most of the people on Lazarus Station were only for Phase Two, anyway. What we have on Minuteman, plus the Matriarch, should allow us to meet the deadline in a satisfactory manner. That is, provided that Shepard remains cooperative."

"I'm sure she will," the Illusive Man stated. Leaning back in his throne, he took another long drag from his cigarette. "Thank you for the update," he said. "I know that we haven't spoken for long, but I do think I've learned enough. Do what you need to, and make sure that Shepard is in good frame of mind for our talk. I'll keep you updated on what is found at Lazarus, and I expect you to do the same for your own business. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," she said, nodding.

"Good. I'll contact you later, Director. Best of luck." He cut the feed, and Miranda's form vanished from the holopad. The room was suddenly much darker, and in turn he adjusted the light bars in the ceiling until it was again dimly lit. For a moment, he sat motionless, deliberating. Then, drawing out a short huff of a sigh, he returned to his prior business.

Freedom's Progress was a quiet upstart colony in the Terminus Systems, far from any other planetary settlements under Alliance jurisdiction. Like most other colonies, it served as a population base for the nearby industrial sector, which in its case mainly included extracting Element Zero and rare earth metals from the asteroid belt orbiting its star. Aside from a small company that was developing and testing new atmospheric laser systems on its surface, the mining operations were essentially the only economic value that the colony had. Although, at that point, it didn't have any. It was dead.

Cerberus had known for some time why little prospecting settlements out in the Traverse were disappearing; why humans were becoming scarce all throughout the Terminus Systems, and even on the edge of Alliance space. It wasn't explicitly because of the Batarians, even though their slave trade had grown significantly in the past year or so. There were too many stations going dark; ships going missing, for it to be because of them. The evidence wasn't there, either- When Alliance fast reaction teams would arrive on the scene (which could often take days or weeks, or even never happen, depending on where it was), there would be nothing there; no-one around and not a sign of violence. Batarians always blew something up when they arrived, to show that they meant business, but whoever was abducting the settlements did so without a single scrap of evidence pointing towards a direct struggle.

It had been only about a year since New Agnes, a small research base of a colony that was situated on the very fringe of human space, had vanished in much the same way as the others. When Cerberus teams had arrived (well before the Alliance, as they had been waiting for such a thing to happen), they found nothing but a massive drive crater outside the settlement, along with an unsurprising lack of colonists. Similarly to everywhere else, all electronics within the area had been disabled by what could only be assumed to be directed electromagnetic radiation, and every computer or other record-holding device was destroyed. What was initially deemed a fruitless search did come up with something of great value, though: A stargazing camera, set far outside the colony and thrown nearly a kilometer by the drive blast of whatever vessel had landed there. The files stored on it revealed something incredible, if not more than a little unnerving.

Shortly before the landing event occurred, the device had lost contact with the server to which it was sending its information. Therefore, it stopped sending and instead began recording on its own disk space. Such a thing was likely why it wasn't detected by the craft that abducted the colony, which was seen occluding a star for a few frames some minutes before the camera was tossed from its position. The data was immensely helpful to Cerberus, who immediately began dissecting all of the information that they could gather from the footage. The ship's velocity was calculated from the brief glimpse of it versus the night sky, and from there the dimensions of the vessel could be estimated as it passed over the image of the star. The results were terribly unsettling, though.

Whatever the ship had been, it was absolutely massive. Such a thing had been obvious from the crater it made in its landing site, but with enough mass alteration the drive requirements for any vessel could be lowered significantly enough to be deceptive. The problem was that, from the looks of it, the ship had to be almost two kilometers long. That was far greater than any vessel that had ever been created by the known species of the galaxy, who were in no way advanced enough to make something that was estimated to mass in the millions of tons.

Reapers were the first guess, obviously, but it didn't match their profile. Regardless of the strong possibility that Sovereign's design was not representative of every one of its brethren, the uneven silhouette of the craft was so far from that of what was presumably a normal Reaper that other possibilities had to be considered. Perhaps the ship was something of entirely new origin, or perhaps not. Neither option was very encouraging. A breakthrough occurred, though, when the vessel was compared to the one that the Normandy had been attacked by more than a year previously. The imagery, which Cerberus was able to snag directly from the Alliance due to its influence within the organization's intelligence community, provided a close to exact match. Provided that there was no great error with the investigation's results, the ship implicated in the vanishing of New Agnes was also the one that had killed Commander Shepard.

The fact that the mystery vessel was able to intercept the most advanced warship in the Alliance Navy, all while on a mission known to almost no-one, held the implication of it possessing both insider information and highly advanced sensor technology. Coupled with its extreme size and previous actions (linked with a possible Reaper vendetta against Shepard and humans in general), the information surrounding it made its affiliation almost assured. Thusly, it was exactly the thing that Cerberus needed to look at in order to study the Reapers' position within galactic affairs. When this was realized, it wasn't long before a new initiative was put forward to track and possibly corner the vessel- Project Witness.

Project Witness was a straightforward expansion of the system that Cerberus had already been using to track and respond to disappearances, with the addition of just over a dozen locations to the reaction fleet watch list- locations with very special considerations involved. It had been proposed before, by one of the Illusive Man's best think tanks on the issue, that the (possibly) Reaper-aligned entity responsible for the disappearances had done its deeds in a more deceptive manner than had been previously thought. An idea had come up that it could be hacking into the FTL communications buoys linking the various targets to the Extranet in order to provide a steady flow of fake information to keep its attacks secret until it was already finished with its work. With the Reapers being conjectured to be fantastically advanced artificial intelligences, the possibility of such a thing being done did not seem so doubtful. Thusly, Project Witness included measures to try to counteract such possibilities.

Through a series of rigged maintenance missions on comm buoys situated at designated colonies in the Traverse, fourteen different locations were set up for monitoring. The system was simple: A set of autonomous emitters on the planet's surface or station's exterior would periodically fire off a repeating signal in the direction of the nearest comm buoy, indicating that they were still functional. A receiver on the buoy would interpret continued signals as a positive response, and would sit quietly unto itself until something changed. If it stopped receiving signals (meaning that the colony or habitat's electronics had been shut down by the mysterious craft), then it would follow what it had been programmed to do in the case of a negative response: Explode.

The sudden lack of any information going through an Extranet uplink in any of the designated locations would signal the Cerberus reaction forces to scramble into action, moving from the watch stations that Cerberus had set up under the guise of freelance mining operations in order to attempt confrontation with the colony-abducting ship. For several months, this strategy did not yield any results. That was not because of Cerberus failing to arrive on the scene in time; rather, it was due to there being no scenes to arrive on. No attacks took place through the later half of 2184, nor in the first part of 2185, and it began to be thought that perhaps the Reapers had caught wind that Cerberus was on to them. That, or they could have shifted their focus towards something other than abducting humans. It wasn't but a few weeks before the reaction fleets were to be withdrawn that something changed.

On June the 12th of 2185, the planetary colony of Neil's Dream was utterly annihilated. The first Cerberus vessels to the connecting relay caught a ship as it was leaving the scene- a Batarian frigate, named the Malakhar. It had just bombed the colony with several fusion warheads, which was discovered after the Alliance found and boarded its half-melted wreckage. Aside from it being concluded that it had been targeted by high intensity laser fire, its destroyers were never known and Cerberus was able to fade into the background without notice. Another event occurred ten days later, again perpetrated by Batarians as a massive slave grab was launched on a string of metallic asteroid mining stations near the human colony of Sirona. No alien vessels escaped the Alliance guard force stationed there, but the two events did succeed in what was theorized to be a shared goal between the Reapers and at least some of the Batarians- distracting the entire galaxy from what was really happening in the Traverse, and setting the stage for the problem that the Illusive Man was currently dealing with.

While the Alliance was busy bolstering the defenses of its major colonies and placing watch stations at key relay junctures, the mystery craft struck again. Not but three days before Shepard was awakened, it blacked out the infrastructure of Freedom's Progress. The colony was the second of those equipped through Project Witness to be attacked, and the system operated precisely as intended. Cerberus reaction ships were able to access the joining mass relay and jump to the system as the ship was still present at the colony, but as they arrived they saw nothing more than a distant afterimage as the vessel escaped via FTL. What was important, though, was the state of the colony.

The ship had left in a great hurry, and many things remained unfinished. While it had shut down and destroyed a great deal of devices in the colony, EMP-hardened starport electronics were still mostly intact, and the settlement's primary networking hardware was still operable. Whereas such things were either wiped clean by viruses or simply removed in prior incidents, Freedom's Progress still retained most of its information technology. In the way of colonists to use said technology, however, it was lacking. Every single human was gone, just as before, and most of the dogs, cats and other animals were simply left dead where they lay. The job was not complete, though, as personnel who touched down there found some former pets and livestock roaming the empty streets. By far the greatest discovery, though, lay within the workshop that serviced the starport's laser launching array.

Previously unknown to Cerberus, there appeared to have been a Quarian living on Freedom's Progress. By what documentation that existed on him, it could be known that he was a lead engineer in the area of the colony's laser ablative propulsion capabilities, as well as being employed at the Halcyon Optical laboratory a short distance outside of the main settlement. He wasn't recorded as a naturalized citizen, though, which made it likely that he was only there on his Pilgrimage and wasn't intending to stay permanently. Therefore, he was probably a young adult, although the Cerberus personnel who found him lacked the proper xenobiological knowledge to verify it and his omni-tool records couldn't be accessed to find out. What mattered, though, was not the reason for his being there. What mattered was what had happened to him because of it.

The Quarian was but a corpse, curled up on the floor of the workshop and riddled with small holes in his environment suit. All of the workshop shutters were closed and locked (and one of the building's doors even showed signs of attempted forced entry), so it was apparent that nothing large had made it inside to harm him. So, what was it that had caused his death? The answer came when his suit was cut off of him, revealing a greatly discolored complexion. It wasn't even due to his being dead, to the best of the examiners' understanding, but it had been a part of the cause of it. The best judgment that could be made without performing an autopsy involved the tiny holes covering his suit, which seemed to penetrate his skin in many areas. It was thought that the punctures either let in material that caused a fatal allergic reaction (as Quarians were so known for), or the puncture wounds were themselves injection sites of some kind. Whatever was or wasn't injected could not be determined without a more in-depth study, and so the Cerberus personnel put the body on ice, collected all of the apparent belongings associated with it, and prepared to leave the colony. Only about a dozen hours before Lazarus station was evacuated, though, a ship dropped out of FTL near the planet.

The vessel was Quarian, a ramshackle arrangement of old hulls and parts, bolted together over the years to make a pragmatic arrangement for something of a general-purpose utility ship. It had with it a single interface shuttle for orbital transfer, and seemed to possess no sort of armament. It was intercepted by Cerberus vessels while on its way into orbit, and with the ships pretending to be affiliated with the now-absent extraplanetary mining installations, a rendezvous was made. The vessel was boarded and seized, resulting in the wounding of one of the eight Quarians aboard, but the other seven were uninjured. All were detained for interrogation, which produced very interesting results.

It was revealed that the Quarians had been going to Freedom's Progress in order to fetch the dead one that had been found there, having apparently received a request for pickup from him several days before the colony was attacked. Who responded, though, was very important. The head of the voyage was none other than Tali'Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya, who had previously worked alongside Commander Shepard and had extensive knowledge of her former circle of friends and acquaintances. Thusly, the Illusive Man had stumbled upon many greatly important things in the span of a few days- Extensive evidence documenting the arrival, presence and escape of the craft that had previously been implicated in the colony abductions, a slain Quarian that had been apparently murdered by the craft or entities associate with it, and a person who was not only a good source of information but was also a potentially valuable tool for gaining Shepard's trust. It was not an opportunity to pass up, no matter how much the Quarian despised her captors.

A deal was struck with the Quarians, in order for them to be set free. They provided software for accessing the dead one's omni-tool information, left their captain, and in return the seven others were able to go without issue. The Illusive Man had arranged for Tali to be securely transferred to Minuteman Station, but the trip could take days and the ship did not have the proper means by which to attend to her sanitary needs. The resources would be present at the end destination, but it was still likely that she would be very unhappy with the experience regardless. It just had to be hoped that the story that she would tell Shepard would not cause problems once the two met.

On the subject of the Commander, the Illusive Man was dually apprehensive and optimistic. While things aboard Lazarus Station had worked out differently than intended, the outcome was still satisfactory for the most part. Miranda was no longer in a position to follow through with her plan in regards to the mental conditioning, which certainly helped matters, but Shepard herself was a bit of an unknown. It had been a stressful way to be brought back into the world, and she was no doubt suspicious of her benefactors after learning who they were. The Illusive Man was confident, though, that she could be convinced to work with them easily enough. The issue with the colony abductions was too great to ignore, and Shepard would have to see that Cerberus was the best option by which to deal with it. Nevertheless, she would have to be approached carefully on the subject- especially considering that learning of everything that had happened concerning her death and the time after would affect her strongly.

That was one reason why having good friends around her would help matters; why a certain pair of individuals were attained specifically for her benefit, and why a multitude of other decisions had been made in order to ease her re-adjustment to the world and promote a healthy perspective of Cerberus. Those things were all later to come, though, as nothing could be done without a proper introduction. No small amount of value rode upon the outcome of Miranda's initial briefing to the Commander, as well as the Illusive Man's own follow-up talk. Perspectives were to be fostered and changed, and if it was all engineered right, it would come out to their benefit.

---

The room was a big one, seemingly intended as a meeting area for Cerberus leadership, but it was only occupied by a few people- those people being the Director, Shepard and the guards that had brought her there. The latter two were standing on either side of the one doorway to the area, silent, as the former pair occupied a small table that had been placed near the room's center. It seemed a show of trust that the Director was audacious enough to sit directly across from the woman who had been pointing a gun at her compatriot's head not so long before, but Cerberus appeared to intensely value her cooperation. It was likely that they had deemed that such a move offered a chance of making her more comfortable with them, and so the Director had taken the risk.

"Commander," the woman said, looking up from the datapad that she'd been handling for a spare moment. "I think I'd like to start with an introduction. My name is Miranda Lawson; I'm in charge of Cerberus' Lazarus Cell." She offered up her hand, which Shepard shook begrudgingly, and then sat back in her chair. "Thank you," she said. "I'm looking forward to being able to work together in the future."

"You're assuming," Jennifer started, "that I'll be interested in whatever it is that you have for me. I heard Reapers mentioned?"

"Yes," Miranda confirmed, leaning forward. "Although, to be honest, I would like to speak with you about that later. The more pressing business concerns you alone. Are you familiar with the Biblical story of Lazarus?"

"Of course," Jennifer said. "He was raised from the dead by Christ, in the book of John. Why do you ask?"

"Because it's central to something you need to understand," Miranda emphasized. "What is your last memory before you woke up, today?"

"Well, to be honest, I think I remember coming to at some point before then; and then you guys put me back to sleep. Did that happen?" the Director seemed surprised by the statement.

"Yes. Yes, it did. I'm talking about before then, though- What happened on the Normandy?"

"The ship exploded," Shepard stated, "and I was on it. What are you trying to tell me?" There was a long pause, almost as if Miranda was expecting her to answer her own question. She had already been making conclusions that she didn't like, though, and as the woman across from her leaned closer, she began to dread an answer.

"I'm sorry, Commander," the Director said, adopting a somber expression. "But I'm saying that those things are connected. You died on the Normandy; pronounced KIA as of July the 15th, 2183- Murdered by an unknown enemy. Full ceremonies held on the 20th, encompassing yourself and twenty-two other men and women from the Normandy. Again, I'm sorry to tell you."

Frankly, there was no small amount of expectation involved in what Miranda had said. Jennifer had suspected such a thing might have been possible ever since she had woken up in the hospital room, having been unable to think of a way she could have gotten out of the Normandy alive. The explosion had been far too bright; far too close for anything else to have happened. Metal plates targeted by anti-ship lasers (especially of the sort that had drilled straight through the Normandy's outer hull) less melted than detonated, and a rapidly-expanding cloud of white-hot metal vapor wasn't a terribly healthy thing to be in the way of. Still, suspicion and confirmation were two entirely different things. The apparent fact of her own death was hard for Jennifer to process. Harder still to apply to reality.

"Look, Commander," Miranda started, reacting to Shepard's prolonged silence and appearing genuinely sympathetic. "I understand how you may be having a hard time dealing with this- With believing me. I can prove it to you, though- That everything I've said is true."

"No," Jennifer said, shaking herself from her thoughts. "I believe you, it… It adds up. Proof would be good, though; so I can know for sure."

"Fair enough," the Director concurred, if seeming a bit worried. "I have to say, though, that some of my best evidence involves pictures of your own dead body. Are you prepared to see something like that, and walk out of here in a good frame of mind?" Shepard gave the woman as certain of a nod as she could muster, and, apparently oblivious to the artificiality of the gesture, she got up from her chair to approach a holoprojector that sat adjacent to the table. She activated it, scrolled through a menu on her omni-tool, and then selected something on the screen. A notification popped up on the projector, asking to display a classified image, and Miranda turned towards her.

"Here we are," Miranda said. "If you just want me to talk about it, and leave these sorts of things to your imagination, this is your chance to say something." Despite the doubt that Jennifer held in her mind about the circumstances, she felt insulted.

"Don't handle me with kid gloves, Miranda," she said. "I can deal with anything on that holo."

"Right, I'm sorry." The woman turned to the projector and hit the okay button floating in the middle of its display. Immediately, an image flashed up upon it.

The picture was taken from above, of a corpse lying on its back on a large, clean surface. The body was human in shape, but otherwise was damaged nearly beyond recognition. The charred and melted remains of what seemed to have been synthetic fabrics were fused into the flesh, but were mostly cut away to reveal the blackened skin beneath. The stomach was sunken, and what seemed to have been breasts were only shriveled lumps. The arms, as well, were twisted and broken, and although the legs were mainly out of the frame, Jennifer presumed they were, too. The face was but a burnt remnant, the lips drawn back from browned teeth to create the effect of a ghoulish smile. The profile of the head, though, was unmistakably hers.

"God… damn." Shepard uttered. Despite her expectations, seeing the image was sickening in a manner that she couldn't have imagined before, nor fully articulate- even to herself. It was as if she was looking upon something that belonged in a psych thriller, or some kind of demented nightmare. Could she really, really have died? The Director's calm, assuring nod said so.

The frame transitioned to another, this time showing the body lying on its front with the back towards the camera. This new surface was in remarkably better condition, with the skin mostly intact but bloodlessly pale. Heat damage was still noticeable around the sides, but no material was left there and there wasn't any other observable damage. With the head resting nose-down, though, the upper and lower portions of the neck canted strangely inwards. Another slide showed pieces of what looked like the red-striped white vacuum suit that Shepard had worn on the Normandy, looking like it had been melted, burnt and totally fucking sandblasted with shrapnel, all at once. The visor was cracked and cloudy, and the more opaque portions of the helmet it was attached to were scorched and deformed towards the front. The chest was another story, being so melted and tattered that it couldn't even be arranged properly and was just piled together for the photo that captured it. One of the legs of the suit appeared to nearly have been ripped off, and everything around it was stained a deep red-brown.

Miranda showed and talked about many more pictures, some of them repeats of the previous three, showing analyses of the different points of damage, and others displaying these analyses in a more simplistic manner. There was also a complete list of bodily injuries- severe third-degree burns on most of the front of the body, pulverized lungs and abdominal organs, ruptured blood vessels, cranial trauma, severed spinal column- just to name a few. It became, though, that Shepard wasn't even paying attention anymore. It had gone far beyond her simple skepticism; far beyond her ability to see what she did and deny that it could match up with what really must have happened. Miranda had almost certainly been telling the truth, and Jennifer didn't need more pictures of her own blackened, twisted face to be convinced of that. She had died. What was next?

"How did I get here?" She asked, interrupting the Director's explanation of how her helmet visor had caught almost a gram's worth of flying metal without shattering. The woman stopped, seeming confused, and then turned off the holoprojector to sit down at the table again.

"What do you mean?" Miranda asked. It took a moment for Shepard to answer.

"You've pretty much proved to me that I died out there, and things like that aren't easily changed. How'd you bring me back?" The woman smiled pleasantly, although it seemed more of a reflex of satisfaction than of friendliness.

"That," she said, "is where the Lazarus connection comes in. My cell was created solely to bring you back to life, Commander. You're here because of us."

"Alright," Shepard said. "That's great. I don't care. Like, I'm thankful and all, but I hope you understand that I'd rather hear about the how than the who when it comes to my reanimation." It took a moment for the Director to shake the look of offense from her face, but when she did, she went back to the point of the matter.

"Well," Miranda started, "We didn't actually have you until you'd been dead for over a week. The Alliance had your corpse on ice shortly after they recovered it from the Normandy, but the return trip took over a day on its own once it left the system. When it got back to port, you were shipped to the Red Cross Civic Hospital on Mindoir, where they were going to try and salvage the organs you listed in your SAPDR application. They decided, though, that your body was too damaged for donations and were going to have it cremated. It didn't happen, though, and we ended up as the final holder."

"How did you fix me, though?" Shepard asked. "It seems absurd to me; the notion that you could bring a corpse back to life. I know that resuscitation is generally possible on people who have only been 'dead' a few minutes, but if I'd been dead for a week, then I don't understand how that could happen. And that's not even bringing in the extent of the damage you showed me." Miranda leaned forwards, resting her elbows on the table and clasping her hands together as she spoke.

"We had the best people for the job," she said, "and the best technology available. The very cutting edge of medical science went into reconstructing your body, practically from the ground up. We used tissue samples to clone virtually everything, from your skeleton to your eyes, although most of your brain is original. We had to replace some of the brain stem to allow communication with the rest of the body, but everything that controls thoughts and emotions- everything that makes you, you, is still there. Even though your body may be entirely different, now, you're still essentially the same person."

"Okay," Shepard started, incredulous. "So, let me get this straight- You Frankensteined a body together out of my own cloned organs, slapped in the brain from my previously dead corpse, and then somehow brought me back to life? That's seriously fucked up."

"We did what we had to do," the Director stated, beginning to adopt a nearly disappointed expression. "If we didn't, you'd still be dead, and you wouldn't have a chance to continue existing in the world. Would you rather have that?"

"No, fuck no!" Jennifer denied. "It's just… It's just…weird, you know? To be hearing about all this. I'm sure it's true, but it's just fucking ridiculous all the same." The Director gave a short sigh, shaking her head at the predicament. She muttered something under her breath, but Shepard was able to read her lips well enough to make some of it out. "What's that?" She asked. "We haven't even gotten to the what?" Miranda flinched as if she'd been struck, making it apparent that Shepard's interpretation had been accurate.

"We…" She started, seeming not to want to continue speaking. "We haven't even gotten to the kicker, yet. That's what I was saying."

"What's the 'kicker?' What are you talking about?" Miranda pursed her lips, deliberated for a moment, and then replied.

"By 'the kicker,' I mean 'the most important part."

"Well, yeah, I know that expression. What is it, though? Will you tell me?"

"Honestly, Commander," Miranda said, sighing once more. "You seem to be getting very stressed already, and so I don't want to risk damaging relations by giving you more shocking information. There's a lot of things you don't know at this point, and so I think I'd like to go slower with it so that you're not exposed to too much at once."

"Oh, come on! Cut the shit. I might not like what you have to say, but it beats being told nothing at all. I can say right now that your best option is just to let me know whatever it is you're sitting on."

"Okay, okay," the Director capitulated. "But have to say I warned you." There was a long, drawn-out pause, causing Jennifer to wonder exactly what could merit so much bellyaching from the Cerberus official, and then she got an answer. "It's been two years," she said.

Two years. Two, whole years? God! Even after seeing photographs of her corpse and confronting her own mortality, the Director saying that Jennifer had been dead for so long was like being hit in the face with a ton of bricks. It was disturbing; disorienting. Terrifying. Immediately, she thought of what could have happened in so much time. Everyone she knew could have been reassigned, left the Alliance, or otherwise vanished. Joker, Chakwas, Tali, Wrex, Garrus… Liara. Gone? She sure as Hell hoped not. Maybe she could get into contact with some of them again, but lots of things could have changed in so long. What would have happened to… everything while she was gone? Could the Reapers have found another way into the galaxy? Was that why Cerberus had resurrected her- To fight them? She was only one person; what could she do?

All of the thoughts and fears brought on by the Director's latest revelation coalesced in Jennifer's mind as an overall feeling of despair. From all that she knew (which was little), all of her assertions on the state of galactic affairs (and those of her own, past, social circle) seemed entirely valid. How could anything have possibly gone differently? Assuming that her friends were still alive (which was optimistically possible, considering how their deaths had not been mentioned before), they likely would have scattered to the winds after an event such as the Normandy's destruction. They were only temporary Alliance contractors in the first place, and Tali had already left by that time. Jennifer could see no real reason why everyone would have kept in touch- let alone for two years.

What about Liara? How would the destruction have affected her? More importantly, how would she have been affected by her bondmate's demise? The very concept of losing Liara was viscerally appalling to Jennifer, so she could only imagine how the soft-hearted woman would have taken such a loss. The asari's mother had died only around two months before, so such things happening practically back-to-back could very well stand to have torn her apart emotionally. She had to find her.

Before she knew it, Shepard had stood up, almost knocking over her chair in her haste. She gripped her bare-scalped head with her hands as she turned around, noticing the guards stepping away from the wall. They seemed uncertain of what to do, and Miranda came around the table to get her attention.

"Commander!" She said, raising her hands soothingly. "Please, calm down! I know, it's scary- It's been a long time, and things have changed, but there's nothing you can do about it right now."

"God damn it!" Jennifer shouted. "Then when can I? All kinds of shit could've happened when I was gone! I have to figure it out!" As she was looking at the Director, she heard the guards extend their batons- probably shock prodders. She really didn't want to get jabbed with one of those, but the very fact that they were coming out probably meant that she was causing enough of a scene to further jeopardize her already-shaky relationship with Cerberus. Even being enormously pissed off, she could still see that.

"You need to calm down," Miranda insisted. "What's happened is in the past, and nothing can be done to change it at this point. You really don't need to be going anywhere, or doing anything brash, alright?" Even though the Director's words did nothing to help Shepard's concerns, it did put things in perspective. If she was going to find anything out about what had happened and (if it was possible) try to fix things, it would be through Cerberus. There was no use in trying for immediate action- It would pay to be patient and methodical.

"Okay," Jennifer said. "Okay." She slowly sat back down in her chair, and Miranda did the same. Things started to wind down a bit, and the guards collapsed their batons, but even without looking she could tell that they remained standing off from the wall a ways. The episode had apparently affected the Director as well, as she looked upon Shepard with a much more calculating gaze than before. Eventually, she broke the long silence.

"Alright," the woman said. "Here's what I'm going to do with you. I had planned for you to meet with someone else following this briefing, de-briefing, what-have-you, in order to discuss affairs. Since this has not exactly gone according to plan, I am going to cancel that meeting and leave you for some time alone. How does that sound?"

"I'm fine," Jennifer assured, starting to get worried. "I'm not gonna freak out again, I promise. I was just…startled, is all."

"I believe you," she said. "However, I think that what happened, as well as what is going to be done about it, needs to be discussed with those with more authority than I. For now, you yourself seem to need some time to think and clear your mind, and so I'm going to give you a room and some materials you can look over."

"Okay," Jennifer said, resigning herself to the events to come. "I need some food, though. Could I have some of that?" Miranda paused as she tapped quickly on her datapad.

"Absolutely. Is there anything else that you want to bring to my attention before we part ways?"

"Could I have a functioning Extranet connection?"

"I'm sorry, but no. Well, at least not one that isn't heavily monitored. I know you might want to talk to other people and find your friends, but we've already been working on that for some time now. I promise we'll tell you everything we know soon enough." Even though that wasn't quite what she wanted, the remark gave Shepard some relief. At least there may be a possibility of clearing things up in the future, which was better than how it was looking only a short time before.

"Okay. Thanks, I guess. That'll be all." The Director gave her a nod, got up, and then wordlessly gestured for the guards to approach Jennifer. After she left her own seat, they took her behind their superior and into the hallway, where more of them waited. In turn, she was escorted through a series of hallways to what looked like the station's brig, although it was of somewhat nicer quality than what she had seen with the Alliance. The room she was put in had a nice cot fitted for zero-gee sleeping, a toilet with a curtain (although there was still a camera), and a nightstand of sorts upon which a datapad was placed. It was no doubt being watched in all forms and manners, but it had nearly everything she needed on it. News feeds, Extranet browser functions, and even a cache of files detailing the Lazarus Cell's reanimation project and all of the surrounding events. Despite how it was probably restructured and washed of more secure information, it was still a welcome resource nonetheless. They even brought her food- a nice plate of sausage, mashed potatoes and bread. When she was done settling in, most of the guards and other personnel left, to be replaced with two different guards standing watch outside the door. They didn't make conversation, which kept things quiet, and things eventually wound down to the point that Jennifer got tired.

The cot was softer than she'd first thought, and as she approached sleep the paranoia in the back of her mind began to recede somewhat. Cerberus had given her everything she'd asked for and more, even seeming to very much want to gain her approval. It wasn't the kind of thing that she'd been expecting. Not bad for being in the brig.

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Author's Note II:

As I stated in my last update I shall be doing something to mark the 1,000-view milestone in my story. Such a point was actually reached sometime following 12:27 PM on September the 8th of 2015, when I found the counter on 999 views. in the next four hours and twenty-nine minutes, it gained four views, so I have no way to know for sure when the big three-oh really occurred. Regardless, The lot of you will now have the ability to vote on what sorts of things you desire in celebration of the event in a poll on my account page. The poll shall be posted either immediately following this chapter or at some point in the following day, so please keep checking back if you do not find it initially.

To all those who are recurring readers: Thank you for your patience! I am sorry for letting you down with the production time for this chapter, and I will try not to be slowed down so much in the future. I appreciate all of the feedback that I have gotten so far, and I hope that I have and will continue to put it to good use.