A/N: I'm finally back with a long-overdue update! While getting a job I really, really wanted is great in many different ways, it's definitely not conducive to writing. Now that I've somewhat settled into a routine, I'll try to get back into a cycle of updating every two weeks. A big thank you to Danie-Dono, Bluumberry, Emerald's Vengeance on Shadows, and SurvivorHawke for your reviews last chapter and to all those who have favorited or followed this story!

-3-

Of all the crazy things she had seen and done over the years, this could possibly trump them all, even entering the geth consensus and leaping into the depths of an ocean to speak with an aquatic life form millions upon millions of years old.

The only clones she had ever dealt were the ones the Thorian created from the asari, Shiala, but they had essentially been mindless, under the Thorian's thrall, programmed to kill.

Least one thing Shepard's clone had in common with Shiala's ones.

Only the mercs who had lifted her off her feet were following the clone, dragging her along. She could have fought against their grips, wrenched herself away, channeled her survival training she hadn't utilized since her N7 program days when they sent them out into the jungles of Brazil with little food or sleep (just at the N1 level!). However, no matter how hard she tried to keep track of all the hallways and ramps, she didn't have that sturdy of a photo-graphic memory. She wouldn't have gotten far without losing her way. Not the thing to do with mercs roaming around and no gun, no omni-tool and really only one functional hand.

They ended up in a room similar to the one she had found the record in, though this one was much larger and contained desks arranged all throughout the area, with the records located towards the ends. The clone snarled an order and on cue, the mercs tossed her unceremoniously to the floor. Shepard ended up breaking her fall with her left hand without having any time to think the wisdom of that through. Her hand made it quite clear a moment later.

She held her injured hand and wrist up to the light to take stock on how badly that incineration blast seared it. The flesh was already swelling and a screaming red, but no actual scorch marks to the skin, almost like she had put her hand to an oven or stove for an extended period of time. Those Cerberus upgrades had prevented the skin from being stripped away, but they still didn't make the feeling that flames were still crackling against her skin go away.

The clone never broke her piercing gaze locked onto Shepard as she ordered the mercs to leave them, who followed the order without question with a "Yes, ma'am."

"Be thankful it was only your hand," the clone replied just as rigidly and indifferently as before once the mercs were out of earshot.

Shepard took the opportunity to get a better look at the woman who could have been her identical twin, at least appearance wise. She had the same auburn hair with the part on the left side of her head, strands carefully tucked behind her ears. The same thin eyebrows that curved gracefully over her eyes, the same plump lips and straight as an arrow nose. Shepard was pretty sure the clone also had the same shade of bluish-grey eye-shadow on as she did (which was extremely creepy). The one difference (which Shepard was relieved to see one) was the clone's eyes. Yes, they were the same dark blue color as hers, but they lacked any of the warmth that usually would have been in them. The clone's eyes didn't even seem like they had the capacity to ever genuinely possess such warmth.

The clone was wearing the same type of armor as the other mercs, confirming she was their leader, the one in charge of this operation. The armor was nothing noticeable unlike many other merc gangs, with a heavy emphasis on grey camouflage and matching greyish solid shoulder pads, chest plate, and leg bracers. Shepard swore she also spotted a Black Widow strapped to her back and a heavy pistol with a long barrel Shepard had never seen before.

The same types of weapon choices, the same powers as her. Definitely creepy.

Shepard propped herself up on her knees. She wasn't going to lay down on the ground and make it easy for whomever the hell this was impersonating her, no matter how unnerved she was about the whole situation.

"Why did you? Why not burn my body if you wanted to kill me? I have no armor, no proper shielding." Shepard gestured down the length of her body. "It would have been easy."

The clone crossed her arms, placing the weight of her body more on her right side, similar to what Shepard did. "Maybe I'm not interested in easy. If I was, I would have had you go on to that sushi place like originally planned."

Shepard took in the clone's satisfied expression and the realization came to her with the suddenness of a speeding sky-car striking her at full speed. "Joker never sent that e-mail, did he?"

"Of course not, just like you never sent him an e-mail saying to meet him there."

This didn't make any sense. Those e-mails were only sent less than an hour ago. "Why go to all that trouble and suddenly change plans?"

The clone's face was as emotionless as a blank slate, but her narrowed eyes betrayed her. "Not your concern."

Sensing she had reached a firm brick wall on that topic, Shepard chose another route. "So you're the hacker, then?"

"Yes. Not like I really needed to. Not exactly difficult to hear about the exploits and reputations of the great Commander Shepard and the crew of the Normandy."

"The Alliance knows about the hacking," Shepard said, a hard edge entering her voice. "They'll…"

The clone's darkly amused laugh stopped Shepard mid-sentence, filling Shepard with a sense of unexplained dread. "Do they? Didn't you ever to stop to think of the timing of all this? Why you were contacted personally during your shore leave at a time when you'd be alone? Why the Archives happened to be attacked around the time you show up?"

If there had a wall nearby, Shepard's head would have found itself making good friends with it, over and over again.

It had been a trap. All of it. She had let her guard down, not brought any of her guns, any back-up. Trusted Brooks, who had played the part of the inexperienced and unnerved woman well, with her stumbling over words and jumpy nature. And she hadn't seen it, any of it. Maybe paranoia in moderation was a good thing to have, afterall.

"Now you understand, don't you? Brooks isn't with the Alliance; she's with me. She won't be helping you. You're trapped here and not one of your crew knows it. All because you insist on playing the noble hero at every opportunity."

She was right about one thing. Brooks had been the only one who knew she was down there. If Shepard couldn't find her way out, could anyone still find her…?

No, she knew her squadmates. They could do it. They would do it.

"It was all a ruse?" Shepard questioned, choosing to ignore the jab, voice level to sound calmer than she actually felt.

"Not entirely," the clone assured, though Shepard did not have any clue why the clone thought Shepard would be assured by the answer. "We were hacking your comm channels and records. We were hoping to get access to your spectre code, but we found a better way to obtain it."

By luring Shepard here and forcing her to use it to unlock the entrance into the Archives. She might as well have willingly handed the clone her omni-tool herself.

"There was a raid on a defected Cerberus facility by asari commandos," the clone continued. "As you heard, most of the defectors were killed. What Brooks didn't tell you is she was the only one who survived and escaped with the "package" in question. With me." She let out another cold laugh. "Cerberus certainly spared no expense resurrecting you."

This was getting crazier by the second.

"How?" Shepard demanded. "For what purpose?"

"From the same DNA as you. I was created for spare parts, in case you needed another arm or a heart or a lung."

"Where have you been this whole time?"

"In a coma. Until Brooks woke me up eight months ago. While you were in a jail cell on Earth and off fixing the aliens' problems, I was learning all about you and your history, your background. Your personality." She didn't sound impressed by what she had learned in the slightest. "More importantly, I was learning to be human. Amazing what a person can do with enough neural implants, don't you think?" the clone asked breathlessly, drunk on the euphoria of being alive.

"Did the Illusive Man have a hand in any of this?" He had to have known, authorized the clone's creation. Why hadn't he tried tracking the clone down? With Shepard going rogue on him, he should have seen the clone as his major tool in the war.

"No. He believed me destroyed in the raid. Besides, he abandoned me when he had what he wanted. You. He means nothing to me. Him or his indoctrinated slaves."

"Then you know what we're up against. We should be on the same team. It doesn't have to be like this," Shepard said, reaching down to harness her diplomatic skills.

The clone's lips twisted into a grotesque smile with a cocked eyebrow to match. "Playing the diplomat, even when you have nothing to offer?"

"This "diplomat" ended a three-hundred year old war," Shepard defended.

"You shouldn't have even been involved. What concern are the geth or quarians to humanity?" the clone spat, not even hiding her contempt. "But I shouldn't have expected anything less from you. Ever since you joined the Spectres, you've saved more alien lives than you have human." Her repulsion only seemed to grow in spades, just from the mere thought of helping an alien. Further proof this clone had only a superficial idea of who Shepard was.

"I don't care what species they are. Every life counts. If you were really my clone, you'd understand that. But you're nothing more than a pale imitation."

With no effort, the clone grabbed Shepard by the collar, pulling her up so they were practically nose to nose. Shepard had clearly hit a nerve.

"I am the real thing…perfected!" the clone growled, dark eyes flashing with a ferocity of a storm complete with lightening streaks. "I'm you without the wear and tear. The doubts, the failures. I'm the lone wolf you were always meant to be. Without the emotional baggage holding me back."

Despite the forcefulness behind the clone's anger, Shepard couldn't help but allow the small grin threatening to form on her face. "Even if I'm still trapped here, someone will realize what's happening. They'll know you for a fraud. They'll stop you. Unless you do a better job, no one will ever believe you're me."

The clone released Shepard's collar. "They will when I'm flying your ship. As for your crew, I'm well aware I don't have your memories. I'd never fool my supposed friends. Or my turian lover." She sounded like the words themselves were gagging her throat, making her choke on them. "Don't try to deny it. I know more than you think," she replied with greater composure when Shepard began opening her mouth.

She had to have tapped into that omni-tool call from earlier. How else could she have known? It's not as if Garrus and Shepard broadcasted their relationship to the entire galaxy. Or had someone working for the clone been spying on them whenever they were on the Citadel and passing along the intel? Did they notice the stolen glances, the brushes of their hands against the other? Even worse, did they have access to monitoring devices on the Normandy?

A malicious smirk found its way onto the clone's face. "But an assassination attempt on their beloved commander will keep the suspicion off me. I won't need to fool them for long. Just long enough for my mercs to put bullets in their heads when they have their guards down. It'll all be deemed a tragic accident and my mercs will take their places on the Normandy."

Shepard felt the color drain from her face, her body shaking as her own anger released throughout all corners of her body. The clone was going to impersonate her, lure her crew to their deaths because she knew they would recognize the clone's deception somewhere down the line.

Shepard wanted nothing more than to tear this clone's head off and mount it in the Normandy CIC, but she had to get a grip. She was better than this. "It'll be a cold day in hell before someone steals my ship. Or hurts my team!" If this clone even so much as stepped one foot into her cabin or laid a finger on her friends, on Garrus, there would be major hell to pay.

The smug expression on her face grew, witnessing the effect of her words on Shepard. "It's not stealing if I'm you. And don't worry, I'll order my squad to make it quick and painless for them. And just for you, Jane…" Her feral smile grew wider. "I'll shoot the turian in the head myself."

Shepard launched herself at her clone without a second thought like a mother panther at her prey, summoning the strength to spring from the floor. She had lost any semblance of her usually impregnable self-control, like something had snapped within her. All she could focus on was her friends had been threatened. Her mate had been threatened. All by this imposter. And she was going to fight to the last breath to keep them from harm.

The clone sensed Shepard's intentions. As Shepard's body slammed into the clone, Shepard barely got one punch to the lip in before the clone jerked her knee into Shepard's belly, knocking the wind from her. She quickly found herself on the floor, but tripped up the clone with a swipe of her leg over the clone's feet.

With the agility and flexibility of an acrobat, the clone quickly got back on her feet and reached a long arm around Shepard's leg, pulling her back down. Her cheek smacked right into the floor, the indentation of the grout pressing into her cheek. The clone wasted no time in keeping Shepard pinned down, trapping her with both legs between Shepard's body. To drive the lesson not to escape home, the clone's fist made contact with Shepard's cheek, her head twisting right from the force of the blow.

Shepard attempted to delay by latching both her hands on the clone's wrists, possibly even flip her over onto the floor, but she could only grab onto one and even then couldn't hold it for long with her injured hand. Despite beating James, hand to hand was not her specialty, especially during her early days in the military. Garrus had taught her some moves, but her body was betraying her, slowing down, making her sluggish, worsening as the punches kept coming.

"What happened to that paragon nature of yours? What happened to talking your way through?" The clone sneered at her, bite still strong despite catching her own breath and wiping away the blood from her cut lip. "Have you finally realized you're beaten, nothing more than a tired old woman? Are you finally that desperate?"

Shepard tried kneeing her like the clone did to her, but found her knee making contact with solid armor, nothing to protect Shepard's knee but cloth. She bit back a curse at the pain coursing through her knee cap. The clone answered that with another punch to Shepard's swollen cheek.

After a few more solid punches, she finally ceased her assault, content Shepard was down for the count. She then called out to her mercs. They must not have gone far.

"So what happens now?" Shepard croaked, struggling to lift her head, her vision now swimming. Her face felt so swollen now, the discomfort matching that of her hand. Her hair was sticking to her increasing sticky and bloodied face. But she deserved it, all of it, for being so foolish, so reckless. For not being more suspicious. For that moment of carelessness, giving into her anger and fear and possibly throwing away her chance at escape.

How was this clone getting under her skin so much when she hadn't even let Saren or the Illusive Man or even the Reapers succeed in doing so? Why was Shepard allowing her to? What was so different about her, just because she was Shepard's clone?

The clone didn't answer her directly, giving orders to the two mercs from before as they pulled her from the floor none too gently. "Take her down to the lower levels, as far as you are able, to ensure no one could reach her." Not that that mattered. No one knew she was down there. "Find a suitable vault for her. Then go and join the others and find that damn vault."

So she had been right. There was something else the clone was looking for, but what else could possibly be at the Archives that would be of interest to the clone? Though she doubted the clone would just blurt it out to her, even if she asked nicely.

"Not afraid I'll escape?" Shepard asked, trying to keep her head from hanging. She would not look beaten, even if the clone thought she was. Even if in the deep recesses of her mind, Shepard's subconscious was beginning to panic at the seemingly hopeless nature of the situation.

"It's an iridium vault," the clone answered. "Impossible to escape from the inside. You'll suffocate within an hour. Maybe two if you're lucky." The clone was the picture of victory, having the look of a woman who knew her victory had been assured.

"You weren't the only Shepard that Cerberus brought back to life, Jane, but at least one of us will finally do something with it." She stepped closer to Shepard again, whispering with cold malice, "I'm going to take everything you have and everything you are."

Brooks was waiting for her by the entrance to the Archives, having replaced her bloodied Alliance jacket with a brand new one. Remarkable how authentic fake blood could look these days.

Brooks saw her cut lip and unkempt hair and didn't hesitate to lecture her about it. She couldn't show up to the sushi place looking like she had gotten in a street fight. They were trying to avoid suspicion, not cause it. She told Brooks with an irritated growl she'd take care of it while she changed into her street clothes. Shepard hadn't done that much damage. Not like what she had done to Shepard, she thought with great satisfaction.

As they walked to the sky-car, Brooks also asked her about the vault. They still hadn't found it, those incompetent fools. What did she expect from hiring a bunch of discharged Alliance marines? If she had had the time, she would have searched for it herself. Thinking back on it, she should have allowed for more time, but if she had, she would have run the risk of not catching Shepard alone. She couldn't have allowed that.

With communications cut from the outside world, she'd have to find a way back to the Archives to change Shepard's biometric logs to match her own. Brooks didn't look as put out as she was, pointing out that would make things convenient to lure Shepard's squad there. The archivists still trapped would stay in their quarantine zones until the alert was lifted. Their forces would be patrolling the halls and a fake message had been put out about the Archives being closed.

When Brooks found out about taking Shepard to one of the vaults instead of executing her on the spot, she grumbled a bit about her taking such a risk. They knew what Shepard was capable of. They were already risking too much. She told Brooks to mind her own damn business. Couldn't she see? She wanted Shepard to suffer in her final hours, plagued by the thought of her friends' deaths on her head.

That was Shepard's weakness, she knew now, the thing that caused her to uncharacteristically attack her like that. She cared for them. All of them, especially the turian.

He will be the one closest to Shepard, she thought to herself with great scorn. She'd have to watch out for him.

She had heard the rumors about Shepard and the turian, Garrus Vakarian, but only until she heard that call between the two of them, heard the obvious affection in their tones did she realize how true the rumors were. She did not think it possible for Shepard to sully her name any more than she already had, but she had found the way to go the extra mile.

They hopped into the sky-car, Brooks behind the wheel. Merging into traffic, Brooks went over the plan again, reminding her of what they knew about Shepard's squad, how she interacted with them. Amazing what obtaining secret footage could uncover, mostly from C-Sec cameras and intel from a few of their mercs tracking a bit of Shepard's movements and conversations on the Citadel. Not to mention what Brooks had gathered from aboard the Normandy a year ago before Shepard cut ties with Cerberus.

She eventually tuned Brooks out, around the part about the AI. She hadn't forgotten. She knew all too well what she had to do.

Play the part of the paragon of the galaxy for the next few hours until the time was right, until she found what she was searching for...

A/N: So it begins…stay tuned for the next chapter, the first one from Garrus's POV. Also, for anyone reading Taking Back Omega, I'll hopefully have the next chapter posted in a few days.