"Miranda! What the hell is going on?"

Miranda jumped at the voice of her commander, eager to please.

"We've taken down the mech, Commander. No other troops visible, but there could be snipers. I'd recommend performing a sweep-"

"Just get over here, Lawson, now." Shepard sounded impatient. "Taylor, sweep the area. Notify when clear. Shutting off outgoing comm channel."

Concerned at her commander's forceful tone of voice, Miranda jogged over to where the she was in cover. Shepard removed her helmet quickly; sweat was sticking her hair to her head, and her eyes were bulging out of their sockets in surprise.

"Explain!" Shepard shouted, pointing at her uncovered hand.

"I apologize that I was unable to cover you better Commander, it was a clean shot and we're lucky it just brushed your-"

"Not the fact that I was shot. Watch the wound!"

Miranda took a moment to gaze at the injury, disconcerted at the condescending tone her commander was using. Although Miranda was a firm believer that she would always be a better leader than a follower, The Illusive Man told her that she had to follow Shepard regardless of the cost. So she did her best to keep her mouth shut and follow, even though Shepard and she had already disagreed on several occasions.

The Cerberus Operative let out a loud gasp when she watched the flesh at the wound start to crawl inwards as if it was-

But that was impossible.

How could the wound be healing itself?

"What did you do to me when you had me on your table, Miranda? Some sort of experimental regeneration? First you change my appearance, and now this? I'm not ok with this being done without my approval."

"I assure you, Commander, I'm just as surprised as you are right now."

Jacob's voice crackled onto the comm channel. "All clear. Everything alright over there, Commander?"

Miranda watched Shepard click her outgoing comm channel back on. Although she had only known the Commander for a few days, she had never seen her so angry. "It would be if your fellow operative started being honest with me. You know anything about any regeneration experiments, Jacob?"

"No, ma'am. Only resurrection."

Miranda smiled gently at a glimpse of the Jacob she was so enamored with years ago, before his sense of duty took over his sense of humour. Although she was thrilled to have a friendly face on the Normandy with her, Jacob had become a thoroughly boring, duty-oriented soldier, one who she damn sure wasn't in a rush to have off-duty chit-chat with. There was a reason she had turned to the extranet dating services instead of thinking of giving him a second chance with her fine ass.

"So Jacob, no idea why my wound is healing itself?"

Brief comm silence. "Can't say I have an idea, no."

Shepard turned back to Miranda, a clear scowl on her face. "So, Miranda, it seems a little odd to me that the project leader for Lazarus isn't aware of such a major change in my genetic structure."

"Have to agree with you there, Shepard."

Miranda truly was clueless what the hell was going on with the Commander. She was told to make Shepard as close to the original as possible with no changes, which was what she did. But this? This was new. She knew that she needed to see The Illusive Man right away and get some answers.

"We need to get back to the Normandy and call The Illusive Man. He's bound to have a better idea of what's going on than I do."

"Let's see if we can help Veetor and then high tail it out of here."

Miranda and Shepard stood side-by-side in the communications room facing The Illusive Man. The two women at that moment couldn't look any different: Shepard's sweat-covered hair was standing in every direction, she was still in her blood-soaked armour, and her face was etched into a clearly defined scowl. Miranda on the other hand was the picture of composition: her hair and armour were immaculate, her hands were tied behind her back and her face was dutifully neutral.

"Good work Shepard and Lawson. We have confirmed the Collector presence now. We need to start building a team so we can prepare to -"

"Wait a fucking second, Illusive Man." Shepard was pointing at him with fury in her eyes. "Before I agree to move on with any of this I need some answers. When we were on Freedom's Progress, I was hit. But the wound regenerated, healing itself. Lawson is handing me a cock-and-bull story about how she has no idea, but I don't believe it for one second and this is my body so I have every right to know what the hell is going on."

"Miranda's not lying, Shepard. She doesn't know what's going on. Only I do."

Miranda narrowed her eyes at The Illusive Man. "I thought you trusted me."

The Illusive Man turned away from the women and took a long sip of his scotch. His constant drinking and smoking was starting to irritate Miranda, who treated her body like a temple. "I do, Miranda. But there are some things you can trust no one with. And Shepard, I'm not the one who should be explaining it to you. The salarian scientist Mordin Solus should be explaining it. I'm forwarding you the dossier for him, as well as three other recruits for your team. I urge you to put Solus as your top priority.

"We all have a lot of work to do. Let's get to it."

Shepard watched him reach to close the channel. "Don't you dare shut me off without answering my-"

With that, he closed the comm connection.

"-Questions," she finished lamely. Shepard let out a loud growl and turned to Miranda, her face slowly softening from frustration to determination. "He can be an asshole sometimes. I'm impressed you dealt with him for so long."

Miranda laughed lightly. "I'm not too impressed with him hiding something so important from me, but he's still my boss, and I'll respect him."

"And I'll respect that!" Shepard smiled faintly at Miranda. She was starting to see what made Shepard such a great commander: at the best of times, she had a way with people. "I noticed we have a little combat area in the cargo bay. Want to tape The Illusive Man's face to some of the dummies and beat the crap out of them with me?"

This brought out a loud laugh from the normally stoic Miranda. For once, the two had something to agree on. "I'd like that."

The two women exited the communications room, spending the remainder of the evening discussing the farce that was men.