Ferris Fields. Shepard heard the whispers from the crew before she had time to read any official report on the latest planet to be attacked. She'd been there once. A dozy little place, no real strategic importance but a garden world with a quietly thriving colony.
She felt sick.
She knew now why Anderson had been willing to throw her to Cerberus, to take any chance no matter how slim or disturbing to put an end to this, but that wasn't the only reason for her nausea. Crewman Hadley's brother had been among the missing Ferris Fields colonists. She hadn't even known he had a brother.
She was disgusted with herself. She had an anecdote for each of the twenty men and women who had died with her above Alchera. Could tell you all kinds of facts and random preferences about her old crew on the first Normandy and the various squad mates she'd served with throughout her Alliance career, but she realised she didn't know much about the people on this ship at all... She saw the Cerberus logo and she stopped looking.
For all their supposed racism and bigotry they had accepted a salarian, turian and krogan onto their ship with minimal disruption and yet she wasn't budging an inch on her own prejudices.
Of course her hatred of Cerberus was well founded. She could never forget what they'd done. But maybe, just maybe, she could try judging the individuals on their own merits.
It was time to bury the hatchet and, she smiled grimly at the mixed metaphor, where better to start than with the head of the snake.
...
"Lawson, do you have a minute to talk?" The Cerberus operative was surprised to find the commander at her door, the other woman tended to keep as far away from her as possible when they didn't need to work together. Even more surprisingly she sounded almost hesitant.
"Can it wait, Commander? I'm in the middle of a report."
"No, it can't." Shepard was suddenly her usual brusque self as she pushed her way into the room and claimed a chair uninvited, then she seemed to deflate slightly, pressing the heel of her hands against her eyelids. "I wanted to... apologise, for the other day. And thank you, for what you did for Garrus."
The words sounded forced, almost painful, and Miranda wondered if they were being uttered of Shepard's own free will or if she'd been ordered by the doctor. She was under no illusions that Chakwas was the only one onboard with any influence over the commander. Well, and maybe now Garrus.
She wondered how Cerberus Intelligence had managed to miss that crucial detail from Archangel's dossier.
"Apology accepted." Hopefully she could end this conversation quickly and get back to her tasks. Unfortunately she wasn't so lucky, Shepard breathed a sigh of relief and made herself more comfortable in her seat as she smiled:
"So, tell me something about yourself Miranda."
"Really?" The australian raised a perfect eyebrow in disbelief. "Just like that? Why?"
"Because otherwise this..." Shepard gestured between the two of them. "Isn't going to work. We've been butting heads since I woke up and, hard as it is to admit, a large part of that is my fault. I need to be able to see you as a person, an individual, right now... I look at you or hear your voice and all I see is a giant Cerberus logo. I hate Cerberus, I hate the things they've done, I see you and I see Cerberus. Ergo, I hate you. Simple association."
It made sense in a way Miranda supposed, although she'd be remiss if she didn't take the opportunity to point out: "Cerberus isn't as evil as most people believe-"
"Miranda, please..." The spectre held up a hand to stop her, for once using an open palm instead of that annoying freeze fist and for the first time Lawson noticed how tired she looked. EDI had mentioned that there seemed to be no discernible pattern to the commander's sleep cycle. "Don't waste your breath, I've seen the evil carried out in Cerberus's name first hand so why don't we just... agree to disagree."
It was more of a compromise than the commander had been willing to give so far so she nodded, but she was curious about the change of heart.
"Why now?"
"Ferris Fields... made me realise a few things..." It didn't look like Miranda was getting any more info than that but it didn't mean she'd stop digging.
"Things you couldn't realise on Freedom's Progress?"
The commander grimaced in response.
"I'd only just woke up, I had a lot on my mind. In my defence, getting my act together after two colony attacks is still quicker than the Council."
There it was, Miranda thought, the attempt to hide and deflect with humour. Textbook Shepard. She realised with a start that the commander was right, she'd spent two years learning everything there was to know about Nicola Jane Shepard but the other woman knew nothing about her in return. Only that she worked for Cerberus. Regardless of her own desire (or lack thereof) to talk, any chance to develop a better working relationship with Shepard would be beneficial to the mission.
"Well, you should probably know that I've had extensive genetic modification. Not my choice but I make the most of it." The change it topic was perhaps a little clunky but Shepard seemed to follow the switch seamlessly enough. "It's one of the reasons the Illusive Man handpicked me. I'm very good at just about anything I choose to do."
"And modest too, I like that in a woman." From anyone else Miranda would assume that was a flirt, but she'd studied the commander enough to know that she was completely oblivious to such interpretations.
"It's just a fact. My reflexes, my strength, even my looks, they're all designed to give me an edge. No point in hiding from it."
It was a little unnerving being under Shepard's intense gaze as she told her story, but she refused to let it faze her until the commander suddenly interrupted from nowhere.
"Damn, that's tragic." Miranda frowned, she hadn't thought her last sentence was an overly deplorable part of the tale. "Here I am, struggling to see you as a person, and you don't even see yourself as one. You talk about yourself like you're just a tool, something to be used. By your father or by Cerberus."
Miranda didn't think she agreed with that assessment but since this was the longest they'd managed to maintain a civil conversation so far she merely shrugged, not wanting to ruin their progress.
"Maybe. I like to know where I fit in the world. It helps me find meaning in how I was created."
Shepard simply scoffed.
"Twenty percent of 'natural' conceptions are unplanned, the rest? For one reason or another somebody decided they wanted a kid. Don't look for a reason behind your existence, simply be, and be the best you can be. You are who you are Miranda. You don't need to make excuses for it."
"That's easy for you to say. We've both been engineered for greatness Shepard, the difference is you were great before we rebuilt you. I'm great because of it."
"That's one thing we got in common then, neither of us asked to be messed around with." The sudden bitterness came from nowhere, but before Miranda could issue a suitably acerbic response Shepard sighed deeply and mimed shooting herself in the head.
"Look, what I'm failing to try and say is... your father may have created you on a genetic level, but DNA is the smallest possible part of who you are. I've seen the best soldiers, top of their class, falter and fail while the weedy little runt stands up and saves the day. It's what's in here and here," she tapped her head and her heart, "that matters. That's what makes a person great and what makes them 'them'. That's something that can't be engineered. It is spirit and personality that makes anyone great. Even you."
"That's... I'm not sure I believe you, but thanks for saying it."
Nikki shrugged with a smile, she'd been a lost cause often enough to know when someone wasn't ready to be persuaded by reason.
"Just do me a favour Miranda, next time we land on a civilised planet, take some shore leave. Do something for yourself, something you like. Not because Mr Illusive told you to, or it helps Cerberus, or is good for humanity, but for no other reason than because you want to do it."
"Is that an order Commander?"
Shepard smirked as she stood up.
"Kind of defeats the point if I make it one, doesn't it? Enjoy your paperwork Lawson." With that she turned and left, leaving Miranda pondering the strange conversation. It seemed as though the commander believed they had come to some sort of understanding or agreement; the Cerberus operative just had no idea what it might be.
...
Nikki lay back on her bed staring at the ceiling in quiet contemplation. To think she'd spent weeks sleeping on the couch because she couldn't find a button to close the window shutters, when all she had to do was ask the AI for help.
It had been an interesting day. For the first time on her new ship she'd managed a complete walk around, talking with all personnel. Previously she'd only cared about names, job titles and status reports, but today she finally put the extra effort in to interact with them as if they were her crew, people worthy of her time and effort. Maybe she was just imagining it, but already it felt like the atmosphere onboard was better, less oppressive.
Of course there were still a few people she wasn't keen on, their personalities or belief systems clashing, rubbing her the wrong way, but for the most part the crew were at least tolerable.
It had been surprising how many of them were former Alliance, disaffected by the official protectors of humanity's lack of action. Such as the two engineers: Gabby and Donnelley. They weren't Cerberus hardliners, they'd just served in the Battle of the Citadel, seen the reaper threat first hand and been determined to do their part to stop it. They were easy to talk to and almost before she knew it she'd landed a spot at their poker table.
Goldstein and Hawthorne also took part in the game of skyllian five, moaning about the food onboard as was apparently common for the duo. They had been enthusiastic when Shepard offered to look into getting hold of some better provisions for the ship, cheers turning to groans when she joked that she was sure she could get hold of some surplus Alliance MREs from somewhere.
Even the hypothetical MREs weren't as salty as the language from Zaeed as he lost another 200 credits however, Nikki remaining completely unperturbed by his threats as she scooped up her winnings. She did make a mental note to visit his hideaway in the lower decks in the future though. His stories were highly entertaining, even if he had a somewhat obsessive attachment to his retired rifle 'Jessie'.
Kasumi was another individual with a multitude of tall tales to tell, although she hadn't been interested in game night. Miss Goto was one of the few people onboard that Shepard had talked to before her recent self-revelation that she was a dick, and they were currently enroute to Bekenstein to take care of a personal matter for the thief. Retrieving the greybox of her former partner.
At first the commander thought Kasumi merely meant 'partner in crime' but it was quickly evident even to her that Keiji had been a partner in life and love as well. A shroud of melancholic solitude descended around the woman whenever she talked about him and her living space was littered with little mementos.
Unbidden, Nikki found herself remembering a conversation with the thief earlier in the day: "It might be out of turn for me to say this Shep, but don't squander your second chance. I would give anything, do anything, just to see Keiji one more time."
She hadn't lied when she told Garrus she thought about Trish every day.
As his words joined Kasumi's and all the arguments already clamouring around her brain, she felt her resolve falter. For weeks now she'd been struggling between her desire to see Trish again, to speak to her, and the conviction that she'd only hurt her wife more in the long run if she did so.
She couldn't help but think of herself as a hypocrite. She'd never wanted to die, but in her line of work sometimes you ended up thinking about the possibility, and she'd always hoped that should the worst happen, her partner would find a way to move on. To be happy. She'd just never expected to have to come back and deal with the repercussions. Jealousy and guilt were merely the strongest feelings in a tumultuous cocktail of emotion.
She sighed deeply as she projected an image of the galaxy map onto the ceiling above her. It wasn't that far between the Serpent Nebula and the Arcturus Stream, and the current ETA to Bekenstein was over a week before Hock's party.
They could spend the time launching mining probes at planets for resources, or they could take a quick detour. She just wished she knew what to say.
...
Shepard had imagined this meeting so many times. When she wasn't busy listing all the reasons it was a bad idea that is.
Then there had been the debate about whether to just turn up uninvited or get in touch via email first. Both had drawbacks and when Chakwas had offered to talk to Trish first to prepare the way it had seemed like a good solution. More personal than an email, less shocking than a dead woman turning up unannounced in the hall.
Plus, as a medical professional, the doc would be able to deal with any side effects the announcement might cause.
So here she was, standing at their designated meeting spot, every possible reaction to her revival running through her head, from joy to anger to indifference, there was even a chance that Trish would refuse to meet her entirely. The faint purr of a mark four eezo engine interrupted her thoughts and she turned, heart pounding, as a skycar landed nearby, doors quickly opening.
For a brief moment their eyes met, but Nikki had no time to try and analyse the emotions on the other woman's face, her attention caught by a sharp, loud bark seconds before she was knocked over by a high speed ball of fluff.
There was nothing she could do to defend herself from the twin assault of tongue and tail as an excited Judy jumped and danced around her with a range of whines and yips torn from the canine's throat. Burying her head in the wriggling fur, Nikki couldn't hold back the tears and laughter that erupted from her in equal measure as she fought to get both herself and the dog under some semblance of control.
Trish pretended not to notice as Nick attempted to discreetly wipe her eyes before standing up from the still rather overexcited dog. For a moment the two humans just stood there, staring at each other, neither knowing what to say.
"So, uh... hi." The spectre awkwardly broke the stalemate with a hopeless shrug. Forgetting all the various greetings she had mentally rehearsed over the past few days. In fairness any potential words seemed inadequate now, but surely she could have come up with something better than that.
"Nikki..." Trish practically exhaled the name rather than say it aloud as she took a step forwards, eyes roaming analytically over the soldier's face. She looked exactly the same as the last time she saw her, except the aura of cockiness had been replaced by uncertainty. That and the faint glowing lines that looked like they'd come out of a sci-fi vid.
"Sorry about the zombie scars." Nikki joked when she realised what had caught her partner's attention, but Trish didn't even seem to hear the words. Too overwhelmed by the sight in front of her for her brain to be able to process input from any of her other senses.
It was one thing to be told about Nikki being alive, but quite another to actually see her again in the flesh.
"Is it really you?"
"The hard questions first huh?"
"Oh come here you." Trish stepped forward, embracing her wife in a hug, Nikki returning it without hesitation. "I missed you."
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." She instinctively tightened the grip, never wanting to let go as she clung to her rock, her anchor. Finally Trish pulled away, just enough to look at the younger woman's face. She reached one hand up to wipe away the water running down Nicola's cheek.
"Your eyeballs are sweating." She informed her softly.
"No they're not, I'm bloody crying." The soldier sniffed with a smile, Trish's lips curling up too as Nikki mirrored her actions, wiping away the elder's tears.
"Any moment now I'm going to wake up." The civilian couldn't help but voice her fear.
"You're not dreaming Trish."
"That's what you said last time."
Nikki didn't have a response to that, the knowledge her widow still dreamt of her. Then with a flash of inspiration she held up a hand, bringing it in slowly and pinching her partner on the nose.
"You did that last time too." Trish chuckled and Nikki rolled her eyes, dream-her was not making this easy for herself.
"And? What then?"
"I woke up." The civilian admitted, glancing back up at the still present Nikki with a glimmer of hope.
Her eyes caught once more on the faint glowing scars, she'd never dreamt of those before, and her hand moved of its own volition to trace the lines. A faint contraction around the eyes suggested Nikki wasn't entirely comfortable with the action, although she didn't protest. Seeing it Trish quickly dropped her hand back down.
"How long have you..." She paused, uncertain of her wording before settling on: "-been back?"
"Uh, probably close to two months. Give or take."
"And you didn't come see me sooner? Send me a message or something?"
"I... I didn't know how... and I didn't want to make things awkward between you and Melissa."
"Melissa? How do you kn-..." Trish trailed off, how didn't really matter in the long run. A feeling of guilt rose in her chest but she couldn't work out which woman it was for. She'd been so caught up in the impossibility of the situation that she hadn't had time to think about how this would affect other areas of her life. "Shit Nick, why'd you have to make things so complicated?"
"Sorry."
"Damn it Nick, you died! What was I supposed to do?" The soldier just stood there, offering no accusation and no defense while Trish vented. When she was done it was a very demure Shepard who inquired:
"Do you love her?"
"I... She makes me happy. If someone asked me yesterday I'd probably have said yes but now? I don't know... I think so..." Nikki nodded resignedly, swallowing the fist sized lump in her throat.
"I'm sorry Trish, I'm sorry for everything I put you through and... I shouldn't have come back, I don't know what I was thinking, I'll just... I should go."
"Please don't Nick. Don't be all noble and self-sacrificing about this, that's not what I want."
"What do you want?"
"I don't know. I... This is all so much to take in. I need time to process everything."
"Ok, I can give you all the time you need."
"It's just... you were dead! I'm still not sure I can believe it's really you. I want it to be, I really do, but there's this little voice at the back of my head insisting it's not possible, that you're an impostor or a clone or… something."
"You could always ask me some questions only I'd know to make sure." Despite the confusion in her head and the ache in her chest Trish found her lips twitching mischievously at that.
"Oh? Ok... What's your favourite type of cake?"
"Oh come on, that's impossible! Am I allowed to narrow it down to a Top Five? No, wait! Eight. What day of the week is it?"
Trish descended into giggles at that, Nikki following her over the edge, their fingers entwining as they held hands. Nick pulled herself together first.
"Come on, this will only work if you ask questions that have an actual answer. I don't want to go back to work and you start doubting again as soon as I'm gone."
Trish's mirth vanished, a serious look overcoming her as she nervously bit her lip. Her grip on Nick's hand changed from playful to supportive, Nikki noticed the change in atmosphere and tilted her head towards hers, silent curiosity reflected in her eyes. Trish swallowed thickly as she stared into those deep brown orbs.
She already hated herself for bringing this up, it was cruel, but it was the only thing she could think of right now. Something only her immediate family would know. Something an impostor couldn't just look up on the extranet.
"What... What was the name of our first child?"
Pain flashed in the spectre's gaze, her grip unconsciously tightening as the familiar feelings of loss, grief and longing that always accompanied the topic of Trish's miscarriage swept through her.
"Thomas." Her voice broke slightly. "His name was Thomas." Trish's thumb rubbed patterns on the back of her hand as the soldier took a shaky breath to recompose herself.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."
"It's okay." Nikki assured, "I did tell you to make sure."
"Yeah but I could have asked something else."
"It's ok, honest." Nikki raised her other hand to comfortingly trace Trish's cheek with her own thumb, earning a soft smile that she returned. All of a sudden the spectre's face dropped into a frown of confusion. "Hang on... you said first child."
Trish mentally slapped herself for the slip. This wasn't how she'd envisioned telling her wife.
"Yeah I did."
"As in like... we had more than one?" Trish nodded, struggling to contain an eye roll, she could practically see the gears turning in Nikki's head and god were they slow. "Did you... you went ahead with it?"
"Yes I did." She watched closely, trying to work out the N7's emotions, but so far it seemed her brain was still too busy trying to process facts to waste time on feelings.
"And it worked? I mean..." Trish simply nodded. "What..."
"A boy." Trish figured she best help out or they'd never get through the conversation. She wasn't prepared for her partner's legs to give way however, the soldier collapsing to a sitting position on the ground. "Nikki! Are you ok?"
Trish quickly crouched beside her in concern.
"I have a son?" Her gaze was vacant, disbelieving, as she stared straight through Trish who grasped her hands once more.
"Yes. We have a son."
"I have a son." She looked up, an intensity shining in her eyes. "What's he look like? How old is he? What's his birthday? What's his name?" She rattled off questions faster than a salarian on caffeine and probably wouldn't have stopped if Trish hadn't placed a gentle finger on her lips.
"Well, he's got your eyes and your nose and... actually, I think he's got Ben's Y chromosome and your everything else." Nick smiled at that, a sense of pure wonder on her face as she stared at the mother of her child in rapt attention. "He was born on March 21st 2184 and his name is Nicky."
"Well that's going to get confusing." The spectre scoffed. "How are we going to know which one of us you're yelling at?"
Trish smiled.
"When I named him I never expected that to be a problem. I didn't think you and Nicholas would ever be in the same room."
"Sorry." Some of the joy faded from Nicola's face, her head dropping but Trish gently lifted it back up.
"Hey, none of that. We can't change the past, only the future. Do you... Do you want to meet him?"
"Can I?" She asked hopefully.
"No, I was only offering so I could dash your dreams." Trish teased pushing her wife's shoulder. "Of course you can."
"What about Melissa?" The question was hesitant and Trish felt another pang of guilt pierce her heart.
"She's visiting her sister. Won't be back until Wednesday."
Nikki nodded, her head and chest a mess as she bounced between thoughts and emotions. She still wasn't entirely sure where things stood with Trish but one thing was certain: She had a son.