A/N: Greetings, beloved readers. Finally back with another update to check on how Shepard's doing. Thanks to all those who favorited or are following this story and to a guest reviewer, Cassy0625, m. meichiri, Blausen, Danie-Dono, and Shockeye7665 for your reviews last chapter!

-9-

"Commander! Two more of them are coming your way fast!"

Shepard forced back an aggravated sigh at Laura's call to dart for cover for the fifth time in a row. It had been like this since she had left Dr. T'Zorata's office and word had spread through the comm channel one of the merc band's leaders was dead not too shortly after. And that Shepard was on the loose.

She should have known better than to hope things would get easier here on out just because she had more thermal clips and a functioning omni-tool. She couldn't kill one of the merc band's higher-ups and not expect them to be on red alert, but surely they couldn't be everywhere at once?

This was all beginning to feel like a game of hide and seek. Except instead of getting a tap on the shoulder and enduring teases from the other kids, bullets were the loser's prize.

She had never been big on playing with the other kids in the colony back on Mindoir. She hadn't been a loner; she did have a few friends she hung out with from time to time. But she was a shy child and never liked being part of groups. She did watch them on occasion when a bunch of them played tag or hide and seek, since they usually played in areas where from her parents' patch of farmland she could easily see them.

There was one kid about her age who was a pro at it. Invisible Isaac, the other kids used to call him (the best attempt at alliteration a bunch of kids under ten could come up with). He was always the last one to come out of hiding, usually after whoever was "it" had given up. He had always managed to find the most remote corner of the colony to hide behind, sniff out the tiniest of nooks no one would think to look behind. His skill at hide and seek became almost legendary, gossip traded back and forth at the lunch table about how he must have had some tech enhancement that made him turn invisible. And he never corrected anyone, let the myth grow around him.

He wasn't so invisible when the batarians hit. His legend died the moment she spotted his abused body sprawled out in the field, blood flowing down his face from multiple blows to the head. Ironic how the girl who rarely played hide and seek was one of the few to evade the batarians' relentless hunt.

She made it to the desk with seconds to spare, pressing her back up against the drawer handles, ducking her head enough they wouldn't see the auburn top sticking out, clearly out of place.

"I think the coast is clear, Commander," Laura chimed in once the two mercs had left the room. "I don't see them anywhere on the camera feed."

"Good to hear." At least until two more popped up from out of nowhere, she almost continued before stopping herself from making that sarcastic remark. She couldn't express any frustration to Laura. Since she had safely made it to the top-secret security room, she had been a help in playing look-out with the cameras she had access to.

She tapped on her omni-tool, pulling up the map, discouraged at how much further down she still needed to go. She couldn't take the time to wallow. She just had to press onward as fast as she could. Get access to the log, then turn on the external comms so she could contact the others. She only hoped her clone hadn't gotten to them yet, but it had to have been well over an hour and a half by now. Her clone had to have met up with Joker, staged the assassination attempt. Not knowing what was happening in the outside world was driving her crazy.

"Laura, is anything at the Archives available to the public?" Shepard asked, making chit-chat to keep her mind from going into endless hypotheticals.

"A few things. How the vaults are set up, you have to be escorted to and from. There was a time we'd let researchers in select areas, but with the Reapers and Cerberus, we've pretty much shut our doors except to C-Sec or those on official business for the war. Plans were initially drawn up to use the Archives as a bunker for people to come to in case the Reapers hit, but I'm not sure they ever went beyond the development stage. Typically only archivists are here day to day. Maybe once this is all over and everything's calmed down, maybe…maybe things will go back to how they were…"

The longer this war went on, the more that word had use in her everyday vocabulary, the more her dislike increased for it. She didn't want to live in the realm of "maybes" anymore. She wanted nothing more than certainty, certainty they would win the day like with Sovereign and the Collectors. Even then, in those darkest hours, she continued to believe they had a fighting chance, that they would succeed in the end. But the stark realities could not be ignored. Even with the Crucible nearly complete, they still had no idea what it did, what it would do when launched. "Maybes" were all they had to go on, the only thing getting them through to tomorrow.

"If you don't mind my asking, Commander," Laura began timidly, as if afraid to prod, "How…how exactly did you end up trapped here?"

Shepard carefully stepped over the overturned desk in her path. "I was lured here with a false tip about Cerberus." Which didn't turn out to be so false, except for the person delivering it.

Laura was silent on the other end for a moment before pressing for more. "You said something in Dr. T'Zorata's office, ab-about someone wanting to take control of your life?"

For a fleeting moment, she thought about it. Telling Laura that there was another Jane Shepard walking around. But something was holding her back. Not just whether she'd think Shepard clinically insane when she said an alternate version of herself was out there. Shepard wasn't sure she'd have believed it if she hadn't seen the clone with her own eyes. As nice as it would be for someone else to know, not have to carry the knowledge alone, she couldn't bring herself to talk about it, to field the probable barrage of questions over the how and when and why. She wasn't ready to handle that yet.

"They want me for my access. To military resources, Council resources." Least that was partially true.

"Oh." Laura accepted the explanation, though without seeing her face to face, Shepard couldn't tell if she sensed Shepard was omitting anything. "Why would someone do that now, of all times?"

"During a crisis is always the perfect time." Shepard poked her head around the corner, spotting the sole merc up ahead with his back turned to her. She probably could take him out if she snuck up quietly enough.

Her boots were not made for this kind of stealth. She needed flats like she had seen Kasumi wear. Light shoes that provided silent footsteps, not big and clunky. She was wishing more than ever she had her cloak. It wouldn't have helped with the noise factor, but it would have created a greater illusion.

This time she was fortunate. He didn't turn around or hear her as she came right on top of him, curling her arm around his neck, applying just enough pressure in the stranglehold he would only be knocked unconscious. No reason to shed more blood or waste more bullets than she had to.

He flailed his arms around, dropping his gun so he could claw at her arm, but within a few seconds, his grip slackened and she could feel the weight of his unconscious body pressing on her, begging to collapse to the floor. She'd have to find someplace to put him. She couldn't have anyone stumble upon him. Not it really mattered. Everyone was on red alert already.

"Is anyone coming, Laura?"

"Still clear, Commander."

She dragged the unconscious merc away from the door, careful her puffed-up hand took no part in the work. She surveyed her surroundings. One of the vaults nearby which looked like it had an alcove. Good a place as any to hide him.

"So…umpf…how'd you end up…working here?" Shepard asked between grunts as she continued her journey to the vault.

"Umm, well, it's…it's really not that exciting of a story, Commander."

The further she went, the more she felt like she was dragging a piece of lead along. He hadn't seemed that heavy at first glance and she liked to think her career in the military had fostered upper-arm strength, especially with the weaponry she used on a daily basis. "I'm still interested in hearing it."

"It was Sa-Sara's idea. Not getting the Archives jobs, but coming here. To the Citadel. Our dad died when we were little and our mom's...always been real sick. We had no other family, nothing really to fall back on. So she suggested we come here. The vids kept saying there were plenty of opportunities for humans to make their mark."

She remembered those vids too, the few Mindoir had picked up on their ANN broadcast channels. To a kid growing up on mostly flat farmland and sparse rolling hills, nothing else but the colony for miles and miles, with minimal exposure to aliens, it sounded so exotic, so foreign. Her parents had never been swayed by them, not wanting to go back to the cramped, over-crowded metropolitan existence they had left Earth because of.

She had made it to the vault, continuing to pull the merc along. The alcove went deeper than she thought. The perfect hiding spot. "How long it'd take to get your jobs?" she asked, carefully stepping on the edge of the vault so she wouldn't activate it.

"A few months. We quickly found it wasn't as easy as the vids made out, but we couldn't afford a return trip. So we stayed in tenement housing in the Wards, until, well, we bumped into Dr. T'Zorata. She was the first one to really give the time of day since our arrival and when she said she had positions available, we jumped on them." Her voice then shrunk three times in size. "We…we owe her so much."

Shepard's arms breathed a sigh of gratitude when she finally let the merc go. "I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have...this is still raw for you."

"No, it-it's fine," she replied still in that small voice. "I still just can't..." Her breathing hitched without warning. "A bunch of mercs are coming towards you, Commander! Hide!"

Shepard didn't need to be told twice. She may have had more ammo, but it wasn't plentiful. And the more she could remain undetected, the better her chances of getting to that log faster.

She decided to do a spot-check before she went further into the alcove, just to see what she was up against. She took in the six mercs that just entered the area. One of them exclaimed something about not leaving their post. Were they talking about the merc she just dealt with?

Her communicator crackled to life. "Razor Squad, Burnett is not at his post. Someone better be coming here to relieve him!" She could hear the words barked out from one of the mercs in the hallway alongside the transmission.

"Negative, sir. All members of Razor Squad were to maintain position until Shepard was apprehended and the log secure. We'll send someone over now to cover that position."

Shepard figured this was the time to slink back into the alcove, prepare her pistol in case they decided to come her way, but she didn't get more than a few inches in when the damned vault recording began blaring at her. As much as she'd be interested in hearing about the asari when they first landed on the Citadel, now was definitely not the time. How in the hell was she managing to turn these things on with no effort?

"One of the vaults activated. Get your ass over there and check it out! Now!"

Shepard readied her weapon, pressing herself even further against the wall, waiting for the merc to come around the corner.

"Approach of the mysterious space station has remained uneventful. Pray goddess it remains so."

She could hear the clodding footsteps now. The merc wasn't far.

"We humbly take this step for all asari. The destiny of our people forever altered."

"What part of "move your ass" didn't you understand?"

"The creatures that greet us seem harmless, but unable to communicate. Preliminary observations suggests their role seems to be that of some sort of guardian."

The merc stopped short of the vault's entrance, almost side by side with Shepard. It wouldn't take long for her to pop up in the merc's peripherals. "I don't see anything, sir."

"We will begin our exploration."

The merc stiffened beside her for one brief second before spinning to face her. He barely got a noise out before Shepard fired, bullets aimed at the usually less shielded part of the neck. She heard the mad scramble from the others ensue as their companion fell.

"Block off the area! All units to our position! Shepard's been found!"

She didn't have many options. In trying to find a place to hide the merc body, she had also effectively boxed herself into a corner. If the other mercs moved in on her, she may as well get comfortable with the idea of suffocating in a dark tube and she was not about ready to do that just yet. If she had any chance of getting out of here, the time was now.

Making sure to grab the spare thermal clip easily accessible from the merc's belt, she then bolted from the vault, ducking behind another desk, firing shots at anyone who dared come too close. The door wasn't far. She just had to run and not look back.

"Pin her down, god-damn it!"

"Commander, m-more are coming your way, you...you've got to get out of there!" Laura's panicked cry came through.

Why? You survived Aratoht and that asteroid station well enough. You could take them. They're just run of the mill mercs. This isn't any different, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind.

But the voice, that instinct to stand her ground, was wrong. This was different from Aratoht. Sure she had lasted against the merc waves until the Reaper artifact ended it for her, but she hadn't been fighting completely unequipped. She had no other toys, no armor with shielding or barriers, no special ammo, no incinerate blast to stun anyone, no cloak to hide behind. All she had were her gun and one hand as a punch with her singed hand was probably not in the near future (she could barely curl it into a fist with how swollen it had gotten). When all was said and done, that's what everything came back to.

It was a fact that was increasingly disconcerting her. What happened if this occurred during the final assault against the Reapers? Would she be acting the same as she was now? Overly cautious, willing to retreat just to save her skin?

When she spotted the mercs pouring in from the other side of the room (honestly, how many of these guys had her clone managed to recruit?), she knew it was time to hold those thoughts for later and run like hell to the door behind her, even if that meant she was completely unshielded.

She weaved to and from as she made for the door, trying to make it as difficult as possible for them to pinpoint her as a target. The door opened at her approach, allowing her passage. She tried to pay more attention to her route this time, in case she screwed herself over and had to backtrack. She only encountered a squad or two, but she had been able to take cover before they spotted her. She was finally satisfied when she went a few minutes without encountering another human being, bending over at the waist, her lungs begging her for a steady breath of air now that the adrenaline had worn off.

"Think I'd be in the best shape of my life..." she wheezed to herself, wiping the sweat from her forehead away with her sleeveless forearm.

She pulled up her omni-tool, bracing herself for how much progress she had lost by going on this little detour. She could barely contain her disbelief when she saw she had actually gained ground rather than lost any. Maybe those mercs had done her a favor.

It was only when she took her first step and swung her arm that she felt it. The stinging sensation, like skin had been stripped away and was exposed to the open air. Not from her legs, but the upper arm on her right. Otherwise known as the only arm that had a functioning hand attached to it.

Shepard uttered a string of curses not meant to be said in polite company, with a turian word sprinkled here, a quarian word there that she had picked up over the years. Eying the door to make sure no one would suddenly come storming through and catch her off guard, she retreated to another vault, not even bothering to prevent its activation.

She lowered herself down against the wall and set her gun down beside her. Now the task of trying to unbutton and unbuckle a shirt one-handed to get a better look at the damage. As she began with the top set, she wondered what secret piece of history she'd listen in on this time. The first encounter with the Yahg? Assassination attempts on the Council? The Rachni Wars?

"Year 2165 CE. Audio File of Council Meeting Regarding Rogue Human Scientist Dr. Shu Qian, Vault 30D."

That was within the last twenty years. What had this scientist been doing that earned him a place in the Archives?

"Ambassador. Lieutenant…this is a very grave situation indeed. If these reports are accurate…"

"Those reports were fabricated, Councilor! I did as instructed. I sneaked in, quick and quiet. They shouldn't have been able to detect me."

Shepard's hand paused at the button she had worked out halfway. Even twenty-years younger, she'd recognize the impassioned voice of her mentor from anywhere.

"Saren Arterius is one of our most respected operatives, Lieutenant Anderson. He would have nothing to gain from falsifying these reports," a flanged voice likely belonging to that of the turian councilor argued. Shepard didn't know much about Saren's early history, but she could take an educated guess such a thing would not have been above him if it suited his purposes.

"Other than keeping humans out of the Spectres," a woman interjected, her sharp, shrill voice cutting through the room.

"This is not about curbing humanity's influence, Ambassador Goyle. Over 500 people are dead on Camala. Most of them were civilians, families. Not to mention the strict orders to bring in Dr. Qian and Edan Had'dah in alive for questioning. With the refinery torn to pieces, nothing of Dr. Qian's AI research could be recovered."

"According to Technician Sanders, Qian was obsessed with this research. He wouldn't have allowed it to be so easily destroyed!"

Technician Sanders? Was Anderson referring to the same Kahlee Sanders she had rescued from Grissom Academy?

"Your trust in the technician is surprisingly placed, Lieutenant, considering she was once one of Dr. Qian's employees. You say she was coerced to work for him again, but was she truly?" a higher pitched feminine voice chimed in this time. Likely the salarian councilor. Salarian voices always seemed to have a slight waver in them, although more subtle than the turians did.

"She was kidnapped at gunpoint, Councilor. She had no intention to assist him again," Anderson defended, still just as fired up as at the beginning of the recording. "She's the one who willingly passed along the intel Qian allowed the attack on his own facility on Sidon to happen. Without her, we'd still be clutching at straws."

"Assuming you or the Ambassador wished for this information to be known," the salarian councilor added, not even bothering to mask her skeptical tone.

"Why would I risk humanity's good and prominent standing in the galaxy for one rogue scientist, Councilor?" Goyle demanded, her voice rising in her frustration.

There was a momentary pause before the turian councilor offered to comment. "Who's to say your standing ever was either?"

"That is quite enough." The voice from the beginning entered into the conversation, managing to sound serene yet weary at the same time. The asari councilor, she presumed. "Humanity's place in the galaxy can be debated at another time. The facts remain that while you succeeded in your rescue mission in regards to Technician Kahlee Sanders, Lieutenant, you failed the more important task at hand. To take Qian and Had'dah in alive with a minimum of bloodshed. We cannot overlook this failure. Ambassador Goyle, your request to accept Lieutenant Anderson into the Spectres has been denied."

"But, Councilor...!"

"Furthermore, in light of Spectre Arterius's report, it is also the decision of the Council that without Dr. Qian's research, there is no proof this "alien artifact" he studied still exists and should not be pursued."

Ambassador Goyle's protestation was cut off mid-sentence, leaving Shepard in total silence to process what she had heard.

She remembered Anderson telling her the Council blindsided him, but she hadn't realized it had been so bad. How long had it taken him to get over it, for his reputation to recover? Knowing Andesron, probably not long. He was never one to let a little thing like a damaged reputation stop him from doing what needed to be done.

What interested her more was Kahlee. He had never hinted the operation on Camala was anything more than an extraction mission. Kahlee had said she had known Anderson for about twenty years, but not how or why they met.

And that alien artifact that scientist had been studying. When she heard the word "artifact" these days, her mind immediately went to something Reaper-related, especially if he became just as obsessed over it as Anderson claimed. Had Anderson been wrong? Did Saren blow that refinery for a purpose, to steal Qian's data?

Irrelevant now, Jane, she reminded herself. Saren's three years dead and real live Reapers are staring you in the face, not just an artifact. And you've got another flesh wound to deal with.

Still, assuming she got out of this latest mess and Anderson wasn't in one of his own, she'd be interested in hearing more from him about it.

As she resumed the harder than it needed to be process to get her shirt off (she was this close to saying the hell with it and using both hands), she thought back to the first time she had met Anderson. He was one of the interviewers for admission into the N7 program, back in mid-2176. Actually, one of the unofficial interviewers. Entry into N7 was not something a recruit formally interviewed for like other positions. Offers usually came after being evaluated in secret, after extensive checks on your history in the military.

She had been so nervous, newly promoted to 1st Lieutenant. She had heard enough about the exploits and leadership skills of the also newly promoted Captain David Anderson to know he was the stuff of legends. Not someone Shepard was used to meeting just yet.

She had been expecting to meet someone all business, disinterested in personal details about Jane Shepard the woman, only caring about the combat skills and career of Lieutenant Jane Shepard and what she had to offer to the program…

She had been waiting for over thirty minutes now outside the N7 office. She watched the people stroll by her, many not giving her a second glance, as if she were another fixture on the wall. Others who did, who had heard about the colony kid commissioned with a new rank each year as if they were being given out in some lottery and she was always the lucky winner, gave her a nod and a polite "Lieutenant."

When no one was looking, she worried her lower lip between her teeth, giving into her age-old habit she had been trying to keep at bay. How long was she supposed to wait before just getting up and leaving? But she knew if she did that, her absence would be marked in some confidential file only commanding officers could see. Like it or not, she was expected to report like she was on duty, answering a summons.

She looked up and saw a man in his dress-blues making a beeline for her location. Even though they'd never met, she recognized him immediately from the vids. He still carried that air of authority about him, but he had seemed much more…imposing on the vids than in real life.

"Lieutenant Jane Shepard?" His baritone voice was surprisingly warm, almost welcoming. Not like the reserved tone she had expected, as she had heard from many of her superior officers.

She swiftly stood at attention, straightening her back with a pop and releasing her lip, offering her salute. "It's an honor to meet you, Captain Anderson."

Continuing with the surprises, Anderson waved away her ceremonial greeting, extending his hand. She took it for a firm shake. "Let's not stand on formality, Lieutenant. Apologies for keeping you waiting for so long. I meant to be here sooner, but my last mission has me bogged down in paperwork and meetings with damned bureaucrats from morning to night. Something to be said for remaining a private. Less red tape."

She didn't know how she was supposed to respond. Was she meant to be as candid or was this some type of test?

"Let's continue this over some lunch. Haven't had anything but a protein bar since I woke up this morning. Unless you object, Lieutenant?"

Still just as candid. From what she heard about him, it wasn't in his nature to play that type of game with her and her judge of character had never failed before.

"No, I'd… I'd like that, Captain," she replied, feeling the knot in her stomach unclench itself. "My XO's been having me run all around morning and I never got the chance to eat either. There's this little eatery nearby a lot of us go to. It's got lots of great pub food, sandwiches, even grilled cheese." A personal favorite for her, but she wasn't about to say that. This was informal enough as is. Not she was complaining. She had never been a huge stickler on protocol. "And a chocolate sponge cake for desert."

"After weeks of living on processed rations, anything sounds good to me. Lead the way, Shepard."

So there she was, a lower ranking officer leading a decorated vet to this hole in the wall eatery to talk over the N7 program over lunch. From this conversation alone, she was no longer nervous, certain that talking with Anderson would go smoothly. Nothing could go wrong over grilled cheese and chocolate…

He had asked the necessary questions, of course. About her past and current assignments, about how she felt to serve in the Alliance, whether she was willing to put herself through the rigorous training and results the program demanded. But he threw in the personal ones too. What she liked to do in her spare time, about life on Mindoir yet not demanding she relay the moments of the attack to him. He even encouraged her to ask questions. Not just about the program, but about him. She could never remember any of her commanding officers permitting such familiarity and she had to admit it had left a lasting impression.

Anderson had kept up correspondence during her training the few times it was allowed, kept tabs on her. They even had an opportunity to work together after she graduated on the SSV Seoul, before the big promotion to Lieutenant Commander and Akuze. He had been a great man to serve under. Serious and focused, but able to take and make a joke. Confident, but always willing to listen to the concerns of those under his command. To respect their opinions and treat them as equals, even if their ranks were miles apart. Made an effort to know his crewmates on a professional and some kind of personal level.

He had taught her what it took to be a leader people looked up to, who they'd follow without hesitation. To be respected, admired. She knew she wouldn't be where she was today without his tutelage.

If the clone hoped to be Shepard, she'd have to find a better mentor than Brooks, though Shepard doubted the clone was interested in following in her footsteps. She wanted a different brand name for Shepard, a new reputation. A more pro-human, screw working with the other species, ends justify the means reputation.

"I told you it was a bad idea."

"You only said my balls were on the line. Go 'head and deny all you want, man, but you were going to let me do it."

Shepard's head shot up, searching for the source of those familiar, unwelcome voices. They didn't sound as if they were being filtered through a comm signal. They sounded as solid as could be.

Her hands had stilled at the bottom buckle. her shirt undone enough to expose her bra and chest to the cool air. No way in hell would she be set upon close to half-naked. Or give Melrose any previews to the main event he had so desperately wanted to see.

She quickly made for a nearby desk, hugging its side with her knees to her chest. She used the knees as a support for her gun, leaving her finger curled around her pistol trigger, twitching as it waited.

"Your balls will still be on the line if the other Shepard ever finds out how you let her escape."

"I fucking let her escape? I wasn't the only one who missed her, Hawkes! She's fast!"

"Of course she is, Melrose, she's Commander Shepard. I don't care what Ramsay says. It'll be impossible to catch her now."

That's right. Just try it and see what happens, she thought with rare smugness, which didn't last long when her arm decided to remind her it had been hit when she brushed that area against the desk. Another patch of injured skin to add to her growing collection.

"Sounds like Gordon had a run-in with her at the head archivist's office," Hawkes continued. "No loss. He was always a real prick."

"What the hell was he doing there? Thought his inside source couldn't deliver the goods, backed out."

Inside source? That would explain how the mercs were able to get past the Archives' defenses, however few they were. The "inside source" couldn't have been that useful if they still had no clue where to search for the log. More importantly, was this "inside source" still something to be concerned about?

"Melrose! Hawkes! Shepard was spotted headed in your direction. You seen any sign of her?" That sounded like the same merc on the comm channel from before.

She swore she heard a grumble from Hawkes before he replied through the comm, "Negative, Lieutenant Ramsay. We are finishing a sweep of the area before returning to Shadow Squad's outpost."

By sweep, she really hoped he meant a half-assed attempt at searching the area.

"It's Captain Ramsay now, Hawkes. Protocol demands I step in for Gordon as his XO." Apparently Shepard missed the memo on being able to change titles without a commission, like switching between pairs of pants, but these people didn't answer to military brass. They answered to themselves and now, her clone. How she'd respond remained to be seen. "If I were you, I'd remember that in the future, in case you and your merry sidekick need any help defusing the situation with the other Shepard. You know, once she finds out what happened," he finished, his threat palpable.

Shepard shouldn't have been surprised by now, but how these mercs talked to each other without any sense of camaraderie or friendship, completely disdainful of others on their squads, she would have never allowed that to go down among her crew. That's why back during the suicide mission when tempers flared between such disparate personalities and bad blood, she made sure to put a stop to it. They didn't have to like each other, but they needed to respect the other's capabilities and watch each other's backs in firefights. She truly believed they were able to pull off the suicide mission without a single casualty because of that. Reason number three her clone had only a basic idea of how Shepard acted and what she stood for.

"Ramsay's just as much a prick as Gordon was," Hawkes grumbled once the line went silent.

"Merry sidekick? That supposed to be funny?"

"Could you put your ego aside for one second, Melrose? Don't you fucking get it? Unless Shepard's in that capsule, he's gonna throw us…me under the bus once the other Shepard gets here!"

"First Gordon, now Ramsay." Melrose let out a low whistle. "Man, you really find a way to get on peoples' bad sides." Apparently not the clone's or she wouldn't have trusted (word loosely used there) to take care of Shepard. "So what you'd do to piss off all these people, Hawkes?"

Hawkes deflected the question with an irritated, "Let's just search the area." She heard Hawkes's footsteps on the tile floor, sound carrying back to her. She didn't dare poke her head out this time, make even the tiniest of sounds, taking silent breaths through her nose.

"Hey. Think I see blood on the floor." She heard a rush of footsteps, probably to the spot she had just been standing. "Looks fresh." Shepard turned her head down to her sleeve and saw the faint stain that had coated the outside around the tear in fabric.

"Keep looking. If Shepard's here, we're going to be the ones to bring her in."

Not if she had anything to say about it.

One set of footsteps faded away while another grew closer. She was just as ready as before, prepared to hop to her feet and take the shot before Melrose or Hawkes could blink, injured body parts be damned…

Another noise then filled her ears, the relentless shrill of an alarm going off at the far end of the room. Confused shouts from the two followed, along with rushing over to the area.

"I think…I think you're clear now, Commander!" A more welcome voice whispered in her ear from her communicator.

She had wondered where Laura had gotten to, but she'd have time to probe for that intel later. "How sure are you?" she asked as quietly as she could manage.

"I was able to set alarms where I could to confuse them. I also have one going off in the room you just came from. I ho-hope it helps."

Shepard stood up on her knees, craning her neck and spotting Melrose and Hawkes on the other side. "Sure did. Thanks, Laura."

She made for the door opposite where she came, keeping as low as possible in case either of them turned around and spotted her. She had no time to button her shirt back up, allowing it to flap in the breeze, solely focused on searching for another merc-free zone to patch herself up in.