A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you for al your lovely support. Your favorites, follows, and reviews mean a ton! Enjoy, and please review! :D

Pt. 3 Growing Pains

2330 Hours, Thursday, January 15, 2183 / Batarian Mining Facility, Bekke, Fuglesang, Scandza Cluster, Nemean Abyss / 3 years, 4 months, 8 days Pre Reaper invasion of Earth

"Ugghh!" I rotated on my heel to the sound of irrevocable pain- somewhat sluggishly from an onslaught of fatigue. Nearly loosing hold of his gun, Taylor dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around his middle. His typical, rich chocolate complexion had blanched remarkably, and his hands trembled more than mine.

"Jacob!" I gasped with a genuine layer of concern.

The lack of oxygen my lungs would absorb made the will to speak nearly unbearable. Waves of nausea eroded in tidal waves as I kneeled beside him, and pressed the rear of my hand to his forehead- only to forget why I had done so in the first place. Instead, I dug my fingertips into the cool soil, admiring the way it evaporated the heat of my dry, dehydrated skin. The ground. The ground is nice.

"What's happening to me?" Jacob groaned, yanking me back into the waking world as I began to experience the full brunt of this sudden illness we had contracted inside the caverns.

Focus.

With his arm draped over my shoulders, I picked my head up and glanced around. Every movement was agonizing. A migraine blurred our surroundings. If batarians were to ambush us in that moment as they had on our previous stop, there would have been severe circumstances. While my biotics had continuously maximized the further into the mine we waded, I was certain that my implant would fry my neural network if I so much as telekinetically lifted a pencil.

"This must be it." I decided, whilst suppressing the urge to vomit. The progress of our ailment had been subtle. It had not deterred us until our last scrapple with the pirates buzzing around the hoard. And now, it was slowly poisoning us. All of these sensations were too familiar to ignore. "The element zero stockpile must be nearby."

"Why…Why is it not affecting you?" He wondered aloud. Envy and bewilderment flashed across his features.

"It is. I've just had experience with this sort of thing."I answered honestly as I tried to regain my footing to no avail. There was no way I would be capable of hauling Jacob to his feet on my own. I just need to take a nap first.

No, no. Move.

And I did, just a bit further. "Believe me…I feel like I need to be in a hospital bed…But we have to grab what Batha needs and get out of here. Just hold on. Okay?"

I retain no memory of calling in our evacuation. Just as I have no recollection of departing the facility. The first occurrence that could come to mind after deciding to carry our mission through was opening my eyes to the sensation of rain on a downpour. Sheets of water matted my raven hair and black combat suit. To say the sensation was refreshing would be an understatement. I remember strength returning to my legs- which operated sluggishly as I leaned heavily against a bulky biped for support.

"Nax?" I wondered aloud, my shout muted by the rain. My dry mouth drowned by the rush of ambrosia. Blinking away the bleariness, I discovered Jacob slung unconscious over the krogan's shoulder- along with a rucksack of crystalized eezo.

The krogan's shotgun went off twice, aimed at an enemy beyond immediate sight. He grumbled, "What?"

"Let go," I said as I shakily tugged my forearm from his three-fingered grasp. "Let me walk by myself."

"Suit yourself." Nax grunted. The hulking reptile released his grip on me, and I retained his canter with my previously dragging feet. Without as much deadweight to worry about, he readjusted Jacob who audibly groaned, and slung his weapon into a more accessible position.

When I realized I was free to move about, I drew my own pistol and aimed ahead down the metal ramps. There were few batarians to really worry about. Jacob and I had punched quite a hole on our way inside. But, every so often a horde would surge, and Nax would obtain a bloodthirsty glint in his eyes as he charged forward into battle. He left nothing behind.

"What's the matter with you human biotics? Going all soft around a little bit of eezo?" Nax barked when our ship was finally in sight.

"Our implants." I answered without any trace of irony. "Unrefined eezo basically becomes radiation poisoning…In unquantifiable amounts at least."

"But you went in anyways?" He gawked, narrowly avoiding a bullet to the face.

"Absolutely," I answered. My blue corona surged from my shoulders to my fingertips to capture our enemies in a lethal warp field. A migraine still lingered, but I no longer felt as though my biotics would thoroughly kill me.

"Hah!" Nax barked in approval as we charged for the docking ramp in a last ditch effort. "You have a quad, human!"

Jacob was nearly awake by the time Nax flung him onto the nearest medical cot in Batha's med lab. The marine merely groaned in indignation. And his krogan rescuer was hardly cowed by his friend's incessant nagging to treat her patient's with an ounce of compassion. Instead, he insisted that he was merciful enough to extract us in the first place, and offered her the eezo as a peace treaty.

"Taylor," I addressed my ill companion while Batha was temporarily distracted, and picked up a nearby stim-pack. "I'm going to give you an anti-narcotic pain killer. You're going to feel a pinch."

And then I rammed the syringe into his neck.

"Agh! The hell?"

Reflexively cringing, his eyes popped open wildly. All traces of fatigue dissipated. It was replaced by frustrated skepticism- one of the few emotions I was beginning to doubt he would feel towards Cerberus when the time came for me to tell him whom I worked for.

Rubbing at his neck, Jacob grumbled lowly and earned an apologetic smile.

"Feeling better?" I asked as he slumped his way into a sitting position on the edge of his cot.

"Much." Jacob peered up at me with a soft expression. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

His dark eyes scanned me over. Taking note of my pallor his brows furrowed in concern. "You okay, Miranda?"

The familiar tone of his voice struck me as slightly odd. Confining even.

I did have habit of becoming professionally cordial with those of my agents that proved themselves above and beyond effective. It made business simpler and much more enjoyable whilst avoiding the stonewalling of bureaucrats, or in the siege of enemy fire. Former agents and current informants under my management were appeased of their concerns for safety, financially compensated, promised protection and amnesty in exchange for the secrets they stole from governments and corporations, and other variations of espionage they performed for me.

After all, I had to keep them invested in the cause, in Cerberus. Especially in me. As a friend or ally to rely on- regardless of the death-defying circumstances. Personal touches ran a long way with most people. No matter who they were, or who were associated with. The Systems Alliance, Cerberus, both, the Asari Republics, the Batarian Fringe, etcetera.

Not that I had many real friends at the time Jacob and I saved the Citadel. Fewer than I could count on one hand maybe.

And back before Project Lazarus, honest emotional entanglement was not anywhere near my radar. I did not believe I would ever allow it to be. I definitely didn't intend to find it on accident hurtling through the middle of space on a suicide mission.

There in the med bay, roaming through the final frontier on a small corvette, Jacob's tone and body language were far too genial for the mere beginning of a cordial, professional partnership.

Jacob was not the first man I found attracted to me, and he would not be the last. He was, however, one of the few I ever considered.

At least for a fleeting moment several months down the road.

His haphazardly hidden affections- although at that point they may have only molded their way into a crush- were both flattering and unsettling.

But, I dared not show negativity on my face. Jacob was thus far too important of an asset to blatantly discourage.

But not important enough to emotionally manipulate past the breaking point.

"I'm fine," I lied stonily. The very clang of Batha's cylinder tapping against a beaker volleyed between my eardrums, and intensified my migraine.

It was nothing I couldn't handle. I was more than accustomed to the side effects of my implant.

I gestured to our newest guest. Still on his deathbed and barely sustaining life, Illo Nazario semi-consciously awaited his promised dosage of Batha's final synthesized cure. And he would get it- so long as he told us everything we needed to know about this batarian biological weapon. More importantly who was actually behind it.

"We have an appointment." I reminded him. "Hopefully he knows something useful."

1730 Hours, Friday, January 17, 2183 / Cerberus Corvette, Docking Bay J31, Bachjret Ward Presidium Junction, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, Council Space / 3 years, 4 months, 6 days Pre Reaper invasion of Earth

Nazario had been more than useful.

Initially fearful for his life, Illo had refused to speak. After several moments of surprisingly unheated persuasion, the turian broke down in desperation.

I had promised to offer him protection.

He had revealed batarian ambassador Jath'Amon himself was behind the formulation of the bioweapon in the abyss. The ambassador had authorized the upcoming attack, melded it to his whim. Slyly, he had fooled the Council into believing his motivations were those of peace. He had built political capital for years- enough to be spared an ounce of trust to board the Citadel for the first time in over a decade.

And, he intended to squander the opportunity for his people on petty vengeance.

Such foolishness.

Jath'Amon paid his price and failed. His species would not re-obtain their embassy. They were once again unwelcome. Batha's cure was spread throughout the infected like wildfire. Jacob and I landed the ambassador in C-Sec's custody.

We even got a hefty pat on the back from the Council.

Privately and under wraps of course. They couldn't send an entire population into a frenzy of fear. I had nearly choked on my own tongue wondering how the three supposedly most politically influential people in the galaxy would have reacted if they had known they were shaking the hand of a terrorist.

Humanity's hellhound no less.

So Jacob and Major Izunami- who'd been busy planting records during my week of excavation- proved the perfect 'The-Alliance-Intelligence-Department-found-this' scapegoats.

I was not questioned.

I had succeeded.

I needed a drink.

"I had a bad feeling about Jath'Amon from the beginning." Jacob admitted to break the ice.

An hour after our brief delegation with the Council and C-Sec, I found the opportunity to indulge my desire in a glass or two of alcohol. Back aboard the Cerberus corvette I interrupted Jacob's attempt to pack his bags with a minor celebration.

He had dropped everything- packing, delayed receiving the paycheck I would give him when he disembarked- simply to spend a few moments in my company. Suppressing his bashful grin, Jacob had recovered his surprise well. But I could still feel his eyes boring into me several moments following my arrival.

And staring out of the observation window into the beautiful stellar clouds thousands of kilometers beyond the edges of the station's arms, we made believe I was oblivious.

I snorted. Still smiling, my gaze flickered to the man an arms length to my left. "You've just developed a poor opinion of batarians."

"Yeah, well, who wouldn't?" He grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. Conflicted about how close to my personal space he could press. "All they wanna do is shoot the next human they see."

I bit back my disapproving frown, reminding myself Jacob had not been on many interspecies assignments. In no way did I believe the marine to be a xenophobe, but over the few days I had known him, I realized Jacob formed a distinct dislike of Earth's neighboring anthropoids. I tried not to begrudge him.

"Ah," I debated lightly. "They're not all bad."

Jacob squinted. "If you say so, Miranda."

"Batarians can make very loyal friends…Once you've found the right ones."

"And are these friends anything like Ish?"

A part of my mind coated in memories- buried in the deep swath of experiences I no longer wished to relieve- flinched. Involuntary anger pulsed through my veins. Jacob had no right to throw around these assumptions regarding my personal life. He knew absolutely nothing about me, or the people I associated myself with.

I exhaled long and low. "And by that, you mean they'd rather die for me than have it the other way around? They were…reasonable."

"I see." He drawled, leaving a heavy silence.

"Well, either way, well done, Mr. Taylor." I cheerily changed the subject, clanking my glass of champagne to his in relieved congratulations. "The Alliance should give you a medal."

Jacob scowled, finding less humor in my joke. "Yeah, well, I doubt the Alliance will actually acknowledge I did anything for the Council to begin with. They'll probably just sweep it under the rug...Still, feels good to help out I guess."

I allowed his glum conclusion time to linger in his thoughts before moving in to plant a seed. "Of course it does. The Alliance has an affinity for sitting on their hands. It takes an outsider to take action before writing a report on what probably happened."

"I guess you don't work for the Alliance?"

I shook my head pointedly. "My professional relationship with the Alliance has extended to partnerships, but that's all. My career allows me the free reign bureaucrats don't tolerate: Thorough investigations, opportunity, a specific cause. Parliament would have a heart attack."

"So, who do you work for?" He requested.

I grinned coyly. "Maybe I'll tell you one day. But for now, know my employer and I have humanity's best interest at heart. Our work is important."

Jacob sighed and shook his head with disheartened smile. "You got that right. If this was anything to go by, you do good work."

Good. He's interested.

So, I told him. "My organization may be willing to invest in someone with your abilities, Lieutenant."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You asking me to leave the Alliance for some secret society I know nothing about?"

"No," I answered honestly, and I caught the disguised flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "I'm telling you to consider your options. Your military expertise is invaluable, and you believe in doing the right thing. My employer holds people like you in very high regard. Instead of waiting to take orders, you could be doing something great. Like rescuing 13 million more people." I smiled before adding dryly, "Or, if that's not enough, I'm sure something with much higher stakes will come along eventually."

Something with much higher stakes did come along. Sooner than expected, and far more dangerous than I had ever actually thought possible.

Jacob pursed his lips, and studied me with deliberate brown eyes before giving a hesitant nod. "I'll think about it."

"That's all I can ask," I reassured him. "Thank you for your help, Jacob. The credits I owe you will be in your account by the end of the evening."

"Happy to help. All for a good cause."

"Of course, but I'm sure you'd still like to be paid."

He feigned hesitation, and released a nervous chuckle. "Yeah, I might need it. But, hey. Thanks again. Y'know, for dragging me out of that hole on Bekke."

"Nax," I confessed, swirling the remaining amber liquid in my glass ever so slightly, taking note of the cruisers moving about in the docking bays. "You've got Nax to thank for your life."

"Yeah, but you still called in the evac," He insisted. "I was practically out."

I blinked twice. So there was a gap in my memory? "Did I?"

Jacob shrugged. "That's what I heard. Sorry, I was a little disoriented myself. You did good though. Impressed the hell outta me."

Well I am the most expensive human being credits can buy. But I wasn't about to share that tidbit of personal trivia.

After a few clicks on my omni-tool his funds were transferred, and I offered my empty hand. He shook it firmly, but did not relinquish his grip as he told me the pleasure had been entirely his, and proceeded to bid me farewell with a premeditated kiss to my fingertips.

1545 Hours, Monday, January 20, 2183 / Undisclosed Location, Cronos Station / 3 years, 4 months, 3 days Pre Reaper invasion of Earth

"How are you feeling, Miranda?"

"Sir?"

I rotated my gaze away from the dying star hundreds of thousands of kilometers away. So unlike Sol. At least a thousand times Earth's sun's size, and a cool cyan. There was nothing quite this shade of blue on Earth.

The star was alien. Terrifying. Beautiful.

And, slightly smaller than the mass it had maintained on my previous visit to the Illusive Man's headquarters. The difference was subtle. A normal eye would be oblivious to the alteration in distance.

Then again, I wasn't normal.

"Your report said you succumbed to eezo poisoning." The Illusive reminded me, dabbing out his latest cigarette. "I assume there are no prolonged side effects?"

"None," I agreed blandly. "Father made sure I was accustomed to the sensation."

"And your implant?"

"Better than ever."

Illusive Man pursed his lips, planted his elbows into his leather armrests, and folded his hands in front of his chest. He had always been skeptical of the adverse side effects of the L2.

But, not of the power they provided.

"Do the pros of installing an L3 outweigh the cons of your current L2?" Illusive Man had asked me not too many days following my twenty-first birthday- just before the detrimental behavioral studies of my biotic generation were publicized.

My employer was all about what was best for his operatives, but I was surprised when he had asked me if I was willing to have one of Cerberus' surgeons perform a life-threatening operation on my skull.

I had grimaced at the suggestion. "I would rather circumvent the potential brain damage. Unlike most of my fellow L2s, I don't have severe medical complications. Any implanted human is susceptible to eezo poisoning. But, that hardly matters when it comes to what I'm capable. I can crush a mech 100 yards away, and spike to levels higher than asari commandos. You know what I can do, sir. An L3-R would be a waste of my potential."

He had smiled with approval of my confidence. "Very well, Miranda. I expect nothing but the best."

"That's all you'll get sir."

I had not broken my promise.

"Good," My boss nodded. "I can't have one of my operatives down for the count at a time like this. Did you get a chance to read up on the Reapers?"

"I did."

"And?"

"I don't think it's impossible." Just unlikely. But, the Illusive Man wasn't one to go chasing just any regular, old conspiracy theory. "It would certainly explain how Saren is able to influence geth, and the rapid destruction of such a powerful empire. But if the protheans were so powerful, how come they couldn't fight back? Destroy the Reapers even? A race of sentients machine waiting out in dark space to slaughter organics doesn't make any sense."

"Their mandate is indubitably beyond mere organic comprehension," He teased our shared curiosity. The need to understand.

"Maybe," I admitted, doubtfully. "But this…indoctrination? It's very hard to believe."

"What about the Thorian?"

"The Thorian releases spores into the air that latch onto the brain's neural network. It's not mystically telepathic. Species 37 controls its thralls and creepers through a fundamentally biochemical, psychological process. How could a machine be capable of holding that power over organics?"

"The colonists on Eden Prime reported hearing a horrible noise inside their own minds."

"Sounds more like insanity than forced, witless servitude." I remarked, but when the Illusive Man withheld his response I peered at him skeptically. "Doesn't it?"

"Infrasound perhaps. Commander Shepard is adamant that the Reapers exist," He finally mused, more to himself than me.

"Commander Shepard is not a historian," I countered.

"Matriarch Benezia- Saren's accomplice- her daughter is a part of Shepard's crew. Dr. T'Soni is an archaeologist, and an expert on the Prothean Empire. She supports the commander's claim."

I pursed my lips in contemplation. Arguing that the asari was merely a child amongst her own people would have been ridiculous. Her eloquently published works and courses taught at the university on Serrice proved so. It would have been highly hypocritical.

There was hardly any room left for debate without sounding impertinent.

Sure, the theory seemed entirely farfetched at first glance, but the further I dug, the possibility of Reapers was nearly as great as it was unlikely.

His expression lingered before he glanced at me with his unnaturally luminescent blues. "Thoughts, Miranda?"

I sighed inaudibly. I needed to further my research to be certain, but the Illusive Man was so adamant. And I trusted his judgement. "Better safe than sorry. Humanity needs to prepare."

"Agreed." My boss smiled for a moment before leaning into his data files. "And Commander Shepard will eventually need to know that Cerberus is aligned with his claims. The Council will only back him until Saren is brought in for his crimes."

"Shepard's psych profile indicates he's persistent. He won't stay quiet long- if at all- if he believes the galaxy is in danger."

"Humanity will follow our first Spectre. "

"But, he can't lead them alone. Not without support."

"That's where you'll come in, Ms. Lawson."

"Me, sir?" I parrotted. I didn't think the commander would be vehement about aligning himself- let alone associating with a Cerberus operative that worked on Akuse- so soon after the unfortunate elimination of Admiral Kohuko. The opportunity to dissuade his loyalty to the Alliance and Council was not existent at this point in time.

"Not yet, but soon. When he begins to doubt the Alliance's faith in him, the Council continues to keep his claims quiet, you'll present him with an opportunity in Cerberus."

Simple.

"I can do that."

"Of course you can." He paused. "Speaking of the commander, Alliance Intel came in with his report on Feros this morning…The Thorian is dead, and so is our ExoGeni representative, Ethan Jeong."

A minor sense of disappointment plopped into my gut. The opportunity for further studies was squandered. I muttered, "Damn."

"But the colony will survive. There were hardly any casualties after his team arrived."

I was surprised. "Species 37 didn't try defending itself? Didn't think Shepard was a threat?"

"The thralls threw themselves at the commander and the Normandy the moment the plant realized the geth were eliminated."

"I thought it might."

"He ordered his squad to use a temporary nerve toxin against them."

"Interesting. The numbers had to be a bit overwhelming."

"No reported deaths."

"Impressive."

Saturday, January 5, 2165 / Element Zero Exposure Trial, Henry Lawson's Estate, Hunter's Hill, Greater Sydney Metropolitan Area, NSW, Australia, Earth, Sol, Local Cluster / 21 years, 4 months, 18 days Pre Reaper invasion of Earth

Henry Lawson's voice was cool as he spoke into the comm, echoing in my arena.

He recorded, "Log: January 5, 2165. Time is 0530 hours. Miranda is fourteen years of age. An L2 biotic implant prototype was inserted into the base of her brain two days ago on January 3, 2165. Affects were tested yesterday by Dr. Chang. Her biotic abilities proved substantial. Today we will study the affects of further unrefined, element zero exposure to subject in the middle of a combat simulation. We theorize discovering an increase of EZNs along her NS."

A multitude of scientists leaned over terminals and control switches to monitor the sequence of events up beyond the thick pane of glass that composed the observation windows above me. Others stood clustered with datapads, transfixed upon where I stood proudly, leveling them with an expression of resolved steel. In a room outfitted to train an army.

Not a young girl.

The sole gladiator in a coliseum to participate in her own father's munera. For research. For entertainment.

A venatio. To hunt and slay mechs as though her entire body were a weapon.

I was ruthless against my opposition. My teeth bared, fists and shoulders blaring in azure flame. Crouched in preparation to strike. The droids fell like dominos.

Then, the scientists unleashed the unrefined eezo.

Suddenly, I stiffened, panicked. Dipping down into the sanctuary of cover in the combat simulator as the bots returned fire. A cool sweat from sudden illness had broken out over my body.

"Father?" I called out to ceiling, searching for my maker's reassurance. My voice was weary as the first waves of the untarnished, non-electric currents of element zero swept through the room and my body.

No response.

My features hardened in undisguised resentment, but my movements doubled in ferocity. I captured mechs with ground-quaking pulls, and detonated them with warp fields so violent the scientists were forced to shield their eyes from the glare.

Even asari adolescents would have found difficulty in matching me.

The unrefined eezo continued to pour into the room in greater quantities, and I hesitated again. A clear wave of nausea washed over me. Green tinged my face. My features contorted in ache, and my chest heaved with shallow breaths. Though my shoulders and arms glowed with the ferocity and strength of the asari legends of the goddess Athame herself, a pale, dying light had entered my eyes.

"What's happening?" I choked. "What is this?"

Suddenly I lost the will to maintain my barriers. My movements were delayed just enough for a LOKI to graze me with a concussive shot, and I- a mere child- gasped in distress. Fresh bruises and lacerations checkered along my face and stung my upper body. It was enough to knock me off balance. Off my game almost entirely.

I felt the increased dose flooding into the arena travel across my skein and down my spine, definitely igniting every EZN in her body. All stemming from my implant.

It was incredibly painful. Like being burned by acid. Poisoned by my own skin.

"Themis!...Themis," I called out under barrage of fire to my instructor- one of Thessia's deadliest commandos. There was practically no color left in my face. I could feel the flush that cause the rosiness of my cheeks depart. I groaned with shorts gasps of air, forcing the words out against the pressurized sensation. "This…isn't normal…I can't breathe."

"It's just eezo, Miranda." A distinct asari voice protruded from the intercom. So calm and steady. Only the matron's sublinguals-which I could hardly detect in my current state- betrayed her doubt as she stood fast amongst the researchers. Themis lied to me- her student. "It won't hurt you."

Of course it was hurting me.

"Please!" I pleaded under the force of my protective barrier. A distinct shortness of oxygen in my lungs prevented my words from maintaining clarity. Blood began to stream from my nose and ears. "Stop. Please...ask my father to stop."

From all I could tell Themis made no move to oblige me, clearly fearful of losing her occupation- or worse. I spared a risky glance up at the observation window to see the asari's eyes merely moved from me- her ailing charge- to the my maker. Loyal to the paycheck, there was clearly no bond between us. Only the duties assigned by the head of the Lawson estate.

"Father!" The hoarseness of voice rubbed my throat raw as I crumpled in on myself under fire and exertion of energy.

Henry Lawson stood still as a statue, no emotion plastered across his face apart from frustration. Disappointment.

My eyes were sunken, my cheeks gaunt, my complexion gray. My blue aura rose and fell in spastic waves, bathing the entire arena in a blinding sapphire blaze.

"Daddy…" I collapsed onto all fours. Tears and distinctly scarlet human blood streaked down the ashen skin of my cheeks. "Please…"