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Need to Know	By : Nicker Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 13206 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Mass Effect & all the characters are property of Bioware. I am not making money with writing this story.

Chapter List
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Miranda Lawson was in trouble. Again. This time she actually knew she was careless, but she was getting tired of running and the short bursts of ten-minute talks she could have with Oriana was simply not enough. Even though the red light started to blink on her secondary console, she ignored it and let her sister finish her story.
Miranda snuck into an empty office on the Embassies district on the Citadel, where she could piggyback her signal on the encrypted diplomatic channels and talk to Oriana on Illium. As long as she was not listening in on communications, she was safe from detection. However, she knew that Cerberus assassins were after her, and they could trace her back if they eavesdropped on Oriana.
Miranda set up an elaborate workstation, attaching a datapad and an untraceable second omnitool that monitored the call and all the searches and responses. A third display tapped into the security feeds so she could see everything around the office complex while they talked. Right now, warnings were blinking, informing Miranda that she has been traced, estimating response time at seven minutes. Still, she ignored the signals and the pop-up countdown, and let Oriana finish her story.
“That sounds great, Ori,” Miranda nodded, trying to hide the tension from her voice. It has been a few months now since she was on the run, chased by Cerberus, an Alliance APB out on her, and she was getting tired. She just didn’t care about the consequences any more. For once, she needed to have a proper conversation with her sister. But if she wanted to have a chance of ever speaking to her again, she had to wrap up now. “Listen, uh, I might not be able to call you for a while.”
Oriana nodded solemnly. She knew that Miranda was on the run, but not the details and the severity.

“Is it that bad?”

“Nothing that I can’t handle. But I’m going to run out of resources if I’m not careful.”

“I understand. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine,” Miranda shrugged. “I admit, it gets lonely, but I’m still a step ahead of them. And I need to keep it that way. So don’t worry, if you don’t hear from me. I will keep in touch.”

“I see.” There was no trace left of her earlier enthusiasm, when she talked about school and projects and her plans for life. “Take care of yourself.”
Miranda glanced to the monitors that showed movement on empty corridors, some of the feeds going dark. She really needed to hurry.

“I will.”

“I love you, sis.”

Miranda nodded back with a faint smile and cut the feed before she would get too emotional. She lost a few more seconds, staring at the darkening screens before moving to action, reattaching her omnitool, frying the datapad and the secondary terminal with a tiny pulse that would wipe all info from the memory crystals.
She had just enough time to register the two assassins closing in on her location before the video feeds died. She looked around the dim embassy office, eyeing the balcony as potentially the best escape route she had. Probably the assassins knew this, too, so she couldn’t go for it right away.

Miranda left the screen on, set the chair up like somebody was sitting in it and slipped to the wall, crouching down near the door, waiting.

She didn’t have to wait long.
There was a quiet chirping and the door started moving silently, pulled away manually by one of the attackers, just wide enough to slip in. Miranda leaped as soon as the shadow stepped inside, grabbing a wrist and pressing it into the assassin’s chest as Miranda went for the tackle, while the dark figure had only one leg inside.
There was a quiet grunt as the assassin lost her balance, Miranda landing on top of her, the gun trapped between their bodies, the phantom’s one leg caught in the door. Miranda lifted a glowing blue fist and slammed it down on her head, cracking helmet, knocking the killer unconscious with barely a sound.
Miranda was already up, trying to close the door before the other one could slip through, but the armored leg of the downed assassin stopped it from closing. Another knee appeared to stop the closing, and Miranda had to jump away from the gap as a thin, long blade stabbed forward.

Miranda spun away, grabbing her gun and backpedalled towards the balcony, while firing a couple of shots at the door until she could dive behind the couch. She knew all of her bullets hit, but against Cerberus armor it wasn’t too effective, just enough to slow the assassin down.
Miranda listened to the noises, keeping an eye on the escape route, the wide balcony, with the walls of glass and sliding door between her and freedom. The phantom probably switched to a gun from that ridiculous sword they were carrying, now that Miranda’s gunfire broke the silence of the sleeping Embassy District. They had no more than ten minutes before C-Sec would arrive.

It was a game of nerves from now until then: Miranda was a damn good shot and a powerful biotic, the assassin had to know this, and the odds were even, now that her partner was down. Any wrong move–
Miranda didn’t wait for the phantom to make her first move, firing up a biotic pull that yanked the office desk and chair into the couch, spinning over it and crashing into the window panes, while Miranda crouched down to avoid the shower of tiny glass shards. The noise was deafening in the quiet night cycle.
Shots fired into the couch, ripping up the synthetic fabric, the bullets piercing the back, only inches from Miranda’s shoulders. Based on the sound, Miranda dived out on one side of the couch and sliding on her back a few yards, she peppered the space where she suspected her attacker would be with a couple of bullets. Almost all of them hit, sending the phantom reeling long enough for Miranda to roll out onto the balcony, through thousands of tiny shards that sank into her suit, piercing tiny holes and cutting her elbows and arms in a dozen places.
There came the biotic blast Miranda was expecting, a bouncing shockwave that threw her against the railing, but she miscalculated, hoping she would get at least one more step and leap, using the momentum of the blast to sail over and down the side of the building.
Instead, she slammed into the metal frame, leaving her breathless and stunned, with barely enough time to spin around before the phantom was on top of her. While she was a good shot and good biotic, melee combat was a specialty of the Cerberus assassins. They loved to get up close to their targets and kill them with blades, silently.
The only reason Miranda was still alive was that she practically wrote the playbook, or at least read it thoroughly, so she knew what to expect. She managed to grab the wrist holding the knife and keep it away from her. She knew when the head butt was coming so she leaned away and soaked it with her shoulder. Just the right amount of force to tip her back over the railing.
Miranda hooked her leg around the phantom’s supporting leg, behind her knee that held most of her weight, and the world started to spin. Still hassling for the blade, they went over, Miranda kicking and screaming, trying to flip them over during the short fall. Since she knew what she wanted, she just needed to twist her torso, push their hands down between them and Miranda was above, the phantom below when they crashed into the terrace under them.
They had more momentum than Miranda hoped and they bounced right over, across the railing to the next level below. She probably heard the phantom’s spine cracking as she took the metal railings with her back, the knife slipping off on the phantom armor’s thigh piece, just to sink into the inside of the other thigh above the knee joint.
The impact forced the remaining air out of Miranda’s lungs and she was gasping for air loudly while they fell, crashing into the concrete tilings of the ground floor terrace with Miranda still miraculously on top. Pain blossomed in her chest and her leg, still tangled with the phantom’s, and she would have screamed, had she been able to make a sound. She tasted blood in her mouth, her head was throbbing as she knocked her forehead on the phantom helmet and she was wheezing for air that just didn’t want to fill her lungs.
Miranda rolled off the probably dead phantom and onto her back, hurting all over, desperate for a gasp of air. The pain from her ribs made her back arch, and the shock was finally enough that she could draw a loud, rasping breath.
It was over, and she was alive, at least for now. She only needed a few minutes to catch her breath, assess her injuries and drag herself to safety, preferably before C-Sec arrived.

Drawing another painful breath she realized there was no way she would make it, so she just laid there motionless, staring up at the dark ceiling above the embassies, enjoying the cool night, waiting for her fate.
She might have blacked out for a few seconds, because in the next moment there was movement above her, and a dark, lean shape appeared as she jumped down from the second floor, with the grace and quiet of a prowling feline. A third phantom, maybe?

“Miranda Lawson?” the shadow said and stepped forward to stand above her. She was not Cerberus, although the prowess and shape could have been. She was Alliance. Miranda groaned, recognizing the woman.
“Congratulations, Commander Williams,” Miranda croaked. “You got me.”

But Ashley Williams just shook her head, lowering her gun that pointed at her.

“We need to get you out of here before C-Sec arrives.”

Miranda let her head drop back, closing her eyes and letting out a painful sigh.

“The Alliance doesn’t like to share?”

“I’m not taking you in.”
Miranda opened her eyes, looking up at Williams, squinting. The marine was checking out the Phantom, poking her head with her boot to check if she was out, not even pointing a gun at Miranda. She seemingly lost interest in her and only found the dead Cerberus assassin slightly more worthy of her attention.
“Why?”

Ashley Willams scoffed, looking around with a bored expression.

“Would you talk if I brought you in?”

“No.”

“Would Cerberus get to you before we could make you talk?”

“Yes.”
Ashley shrugged. “Then I’m not taking you in.” She turned her attention back at Miranda. “I want to talk to you about Shepard. In private.”

Miranda closed her eyes and swallowed, taking a ragged breath to hide her surprise. She nodded.
“Okay.”

“Can you stand up?”

“Not for a while.”

A pause. The marine was weighing her options.

“How bad is it?”

“A sprained ankle. A couple of broken ribs, probably.”
Williams nodded, stepped above her and kneeled down, one knee between her thighs. She looked her over with a blank expression, a marine checking the casualties. She holstered her gun.

“I’m gonna lift you up on your feet and I’m gonna need both hands. If you try something tricky, just remember, that I can outrun ya.” Williams offered.
Miranda snorted, which also made her wince. She just nodded silently.

“I will put my hands behind your back to keep your spine straight while you stand up, so you don’t puncture your lungs or something. Just pull your legs under you as fast as you can,” Williams explained matter-of-factly, like a paramedic.
“Okay,” Miranda whispered. She really wanted to get out of here.

“Ready?” the marine asked and when Miranda nodded, she leaned over her, slipped one palm to the small of her back, to the base of her spine, the other one between her shoulder blades. “Grab my neck,” she said quietly.
Miranda wrapped her arms around the marine’s neck, the closeness and the implied intimacy of the position making her blush with confusion. Fortunately she could hide it by burying her face in Williams’ neck, which just increased the sensation.
Ashley slowly lifted her up, easily like a piece of wood, or a dancer, swinging her partner around. Gasping from the dull pain, Miranda swiftly pulled her legs under her, pushing as soon as she could, favoring her bad ankle. In one smooth move, they were standing, Miranda still clinging to Williams for a few awkward seconds.
The marine was lean but she certainly was stronger than she looked.

“Come on,” Williams nodded, patting her back, oblivious to Miranda’s embarrassment. She probably did this a dozen times with injured comrades. Miranda winced, and they both looked up when they heard vehicles approaching. “Time to go.”
They started to make their way through the dark, grassy park, towards the Presidium lakes and were gone before C-Sec noticed the first body.
*****
Ashley dragged Miranda Lawson to the next skycab terminal and they waited silently until one arrived. She was surprised that the ex-Cerberus operative could move and stand after that stunt she pulled before. Ashley arrived at the scene less than a minute after the first shots fired, and was just bursting through the door when she saw the two entangled bodies flip over the balcony railing.
She thought that was it, she arrived too late, Lawson was dead. When she reached the railing she could see the bodies land with a dull thud two stories down, after bouncing off the terraced balcony below. Knowing C-Sec would be close behind, she had to move fast before witnesses emerged.
Ashley prepared for the worst, the bodies lying unmoving in the dark. It was a nasty, bone-breaking fall, even she had to be careful when jumping down. It was a relief to see that Lawson at least was alive.
As she helped Lawson stand up and wrapped an arm around her waist, putting Lawson’s arm around her shoulder, she was still amazed how she survived. She felt light and lean in Ashley’s hold, firm but not muscular in her catsuit that was her only protection. She was either sturdier than she looked and felt, or she was damn lucky.
Either way, her painful face was genuine, and she did look pale and shaken up from the experience. Ashley put her in the cab and switched to manual as soon as she hopped in.
“I am taking you to a motel,” Ashley said, when Lawson looked at her suspiciously. “Relax, if I wanted to take you in, I would have waited until C-Sec arrived.”
Lawson seemed to ponder on this, and shot a few suspicious and curious glances at Ashley on the way. They touched down near a large, low-end mass lodging complex. Mostly automated, which was what Ash needed.
She pulled the Cerberus fugitive from the cab and dragged her to the reception. She flashed her Alliance credentials at the scanner, keyed in an override code that C-Sec used in witness protection cases, courtesy of Garrus’s old contacts in the force, and hurried into the elevator. Lawson was slowly drifting away, her face pale and her breathing labored, small painful wheezes. She tried to hold it together, but the pain must have been bad, and she kept her lips pressed thin.
Ashley hit the panel on the door and quickly slipped inside before anybody could see them, and lowered Lawson onto the couch. She quickly looked around the dingy, tiny room and went for the first aid kit in the kitchen section.
When she returned to the couch, Lawson was not moving and Ashley was afraid that she had died of internal bleeding or something, but she could still see her trying to breathe and trying to keep her eyes open. She had to concentrate on every breath, and judging from her expression, that was probably the only thing she could focus on right now. Ashley grimaced - she could have been more gentle, but she needed to get them out of sight.
“I brought medigel and some painkillers,” she said quietly, unpacking the kit on the coffee table. She put two pills into Lawson’s hand, who shook her head slowly.

“No… have to keep… a clear mind…”

“You are half out of your mind already with pain,” Ashley snorted. “You can’t keep a clear head either way. You are no use to me this way. Take the pills, let’s fix you up and you’ll talk when you wake up.”
Lawson tried to sigh. She winced and nodded wordlessly, giving in quickly. She swallowed the pills and tried to relax.

“Let’s put some medigel on your ribs…” Ashley suggested.

The ex Cerberus agent clumsily reached for the zipper and tried to peel off her jacket, but in the end, Ash had to do it, while Lawson closed her eyes and let her take care of her injuries.
Ashley was actually glad that Lawson was not paying attention. When she opened her jacket and pulled it away, she let out a soft gasp and froze. The bruising was extensive, both sides of her ribs already purple and slightly swollen, the skin tight and shiny. But it was also disconcerting to Ashley that despite all the bruising and the simple, practical sports bra, Lawson’s body was still so well shaped that Ashley couldn’t help but stare. Any woman would kill for a body like Lawson’s, but they wouldn’t look this good.
Ashley’s hand trembled as she squeezed the cool gel out of the small pack and onto her palms as she carefully reached out and tried to apply it to the bruised area. Miranda hissed and tried to keep still, her face distorted from the pain, teeth flashing in a snarl and her eyes squeezed tight.
Ashley mumbled something and very gently rubbed the gel into the skin. Lawson slowly calmed down. Her body felt very warm under Ashley’s palm, trembling and so perfectly lean and smooth, her chest rising and falling, her breasts almost mesmerising.
Ashley shook her head to clear her mind and blinked a few times. Being a marine, she was used to the guys ogling girls on shore leave, and making comments on their… assets. It was always a pleasant banter, Ashley occasionally calling them out on their casual sexist comments, kicking their asses if they were too crude, or joining the compliments if they were well-deserved. She was quite confident of her own body, and her proportions, which drew a few remarks as well, especially since most of the other women in the armed forces tended to be on the flat side of the chest curvature.
Ashley rarely thought about her own sexuality, but then again, she rarely had the chance to get up close and personal with girls whom she at least conceded she wouldn’t throw out of her bunk. This was one of those moments, and all the more confusing because even bruised, Lawson was in a whole different league, not to mention completely at Ashley’s mercy, barely conscious– vulnerable. And very high on the Alliance’s most wanted list.
Miranda let out a soft sigh as the gel started to work is calming effect, some of the tension going out of her body.

“Shit,” Ashley whispered very softly to herself, sighing again, spending too much time rubbing the gel in.
She fared a little better with the sprained ankle, needing to only remove the boots, not the pants. She never thought this much about bodily contact, when she rubbed and bandaged Miranda’s ankle… and she had plenty of opportunities in the last few years when she needed to treat somebody on the battlefield. This felt very different.
Lawson was already sleeping by the time Ashley cleaned up the tiny cuts. She covered her with a blanket right there on the couch, and she crawled into the bed wide awake. She found it very hard to go to sleep.
*****
The next morning, Miranda awoke to the smells of breakfast cooking. She felt sore everywhere. She took her time to orient herself before giving signs she was awake. Her leg was propped up with a cold pack around her ankle. She tried to take a few big breaths, wincing and grunting in pain, but she knew it was necessary so the bones would heal properly. Even with the aid of medigel and her superior genetics, a bone could heal badly. She will have to make a conscious effort to take a few deep breaths every hour. She also knew she needed at least some painkillers to get through the day.
“Breakfast is ready,” Williams called from across the counter, no doubt hearing the noises Miranda made.

Miranda carefully sat up and made her way to the counter, clinging to every piece of furniture on the way, until she slowly sat on one of the barstools. Williams made a basic breakfast from some powdered egg-type goo and some honest-to-god coffee capsule. She still seemed gruff and moody, but in a different way than last night. She seemed to avoid making eye contact, like she did something wrong and Ashley was pissed at her.
They ate the crappy breakfast in silence, Williams trying her best to ignore Miranda, while Miranda was trying to size her up. Once they were finished, Ashley put a few bottles of water on the counter and a painkiller, then glared at her, waiting.
Miranda ignored the stare and with a lot of wincing and hissing, she started to peel off her clothes.

“Whoa!” Williams growled, rolling her eyes. “What the hell are you doing now?”

Miranda blinked in confusion, throwing her jacket on the couch and tried to slip out of her pants, which became awkward as it seemed impossible without causing herself more pain, especially getting them off her feet.

“I’m a mess. I need a shower,” she explained a bit impatiently, mostly because of her own clumsiness, baffled by the irritated marine.
She thought nothing about undressing in front of an other woman but Ashley’s glare suddenly made her self-aware. She stood there in her underwear, her ribs purple and blue and green all over. She must have been a ghastly sight.
Williams scoffed, rolling her eyes and turning away to clean the dishes.

“Whatever. Just make it quick.”
Miranda thought about remarking that it’s not that easy when every time she bent or turned she was seeing stars, but Williams was already in a foul mood, so she didn’t want to push it.

Only she couldn’t easily reach behind her back to unhook her bra.

“I need some help,” she admitted reluctantly.
Ashley turned around, her face starting to turn red. Miranda couldn’t really figure out why the marine was so mad at her.

“You brought me here,” she reminded her as a sort of preventive strike. “If you want to talk, I want to feel decent again. I had a shitty night and yes, I look the way I feel right now. Do you have any problems with that?”
She might have come off grumpier than she intended, but she could barely stand straight, in fact, barely stand at all, she was sore everywhere and still mentally exhausted. She turned around less gracefully than she intended to and waited, trusting that Williams would figure out what she needed.
Miranda could see the other woman turn even redder than before, this time probably from embarrassment. She felt her step closer reluctantly and unhooked her bra without a sound. As soon as her bra loosened, Miranda cupped her breasts with one arm to keep the fabric on until the straps slipped down her shoulder. Maybe it were the injuries messing with her mind but she felt a little bad about snapping at Williams. Not that it would have bothered her to hurt the marine’s feelings, she told herself, it was more about remaining calm and regaining her composure, lest Williams would think she is weak.
She turned around slowly, Ashley standing there gruffly, her blush mostly gone but she kept looking at Miranda’s face. Holding the bra in place with her left arm, she reached out with the right, picking up the painkiller pill from the counter, popped it into her mouth, took the glass of suspicious looking juice and drank it to wash down the pill.
Williams watched quietly, and as dignified as it was possible, Miranda turned away and limped towards the shower, taking off her bra in the process.
Holding onto the doorframe, she turned back, trying not to twist her torso.

“Thank you for the breakfast,” she said quietly before pulling the door closed behind her.
She took her time, making Ashley wonder if it was just the injuries, being that fastidious, or just to annoy her. Miranda emerged twenty minutes later, wrapping herself in towels and a bathrobe, sitting back to the counter, where it didn’t make her gasp in pain just to sit.

“So…” Miranda said, trying to sound overtly casual, as if nothing happened. “What do you want to talk about?”
Williams shot her another glare.

“I want you to fill in the gaps. Tell me why I should believe Shepard.”

Miranda scoffed. “I’m sure you have read Shepard’s testimony by now…” Minus the parts that were probably redacted, she added to herself. “ How do you think a Cerberus agent could convince you Shepard is NOT Cerberus? Isn’t that a contradiction?”
Ashley shook her head, lips pressed thin.

“An ex-Cerberus agent. And it’s in your best interest to tell me what you know, so I don’t take you in.”

“So that’s your offer? I answer your questions and you’ll let me go?”

“No. I saved your ass. You answer my questions. If you want to walk out of here free, you tell me the truth. If it matches Shepard’s testimony, I’ll know.”
Miranda paused and pondered a bit, eyes on Williams.

“Let me get this straight. You don’t want me to prove if Shepard’s guilty or innocent?”

Ashley smirked.

“If I wanted you to prove Shepard’s innocence, you would try to spin your answers that way. So I wouldn’t be able to trust your words.”

“So what’s your agenda, Lieutenant-Commander? What do you really want?”
“I want the truth, Lawson. Wherever it leads. I need to know…” Williams hesitated, searching for the right words. “I will decide if I can trust Shepard or not. Think of it as a… witness testimony. I will draw my own conclusions.”
Miranda let out an amused snort, and took a good look at Ashley Williams again. She did seem as determined as ever, with the straightforwardness of any marine she ever met. Lost before Shepard found her, and lost again when Shepard was presumed dead, she had all the potential to become greater even with all the baggage.
Miranda read her file during the Lazarus Project, she knew where Williams came from and could spot all the subtle changes. There was a newfound determination in her demeanor, like a woman on a mission: cutting through all the crap and getting the answers she needed. Finally she was standing on her own feet and making her own calls. Miranda could appreciate that. What Ashley Williams lacked in diplomatic finesse, she made up for it with integrity and strength.
Miranda nodded, finishing her quick mental assessment. It would serve no purpose to lie to her, she decided. She only needed to be careful of what she revealed.
“Fine,” she sighed with a painful grimace rubbing her temples, trying to stay sharp with the painkiller slowly kicking in. “Ask away.”
And Ashley Williams was as thorough as a lawyer, or at least came prepared and probably read Shepard’s testimony several times. She asked questions to establish the recovery of Shepard’s body. Miranda admitted that Liara had a hand in it. She didn’t reveal that Liara eventually took over the Shadow Broker’s network, and technically, Ashley could only know about it if Liara revealed it to her – which Miranda hoped she didn’t, for everybody’s safety. Aside from Shepard, only Garrus, Tali and Miranda knew that particular secret.
Miranda went on to explain the two-year project of bringing Shepard back, making a point to establish that she was not involved in any of the shadier dealings of Cerberus before and during Lazarus. Thankfully, Ashley was not interested in that.
When Ashley asked about Shepard’s awakening and the deal that was made with The Illusive Man, Miranda could admit that the project was sabotaged by someone working for the Collectors, and that Miranda would have waited with waking Shepard up if she had a choice. Yes, the station was destroyed, along with every research data they had. Yes, it is possible that The Illusive Man would have a backup copy.
“So nobody can be sure that Shepard was not manipulated or indoctrinated somehow.”

Miranda winced, taking a few careful, deep breaths. It hurt less than before, but it was uncomfortable, and they were already talking for a while. She carefully rose to walk over to the couch. She needed to lie straight for a while and mind her movements and breathing.
“I assume you want to know if we put a control chip in him or alter his mind in some way.”

“Damn straight, I do. So far you told me nothing useful.”

Miranda chuckled, trying to lie down. In the end, she needed Williams’ help to settle in comfortably. She was fidgeting with another painkiller pill. As much as she hated not being hundred percent sharp, she needed time to think and rest to be sharp enough later. And that meant popping a second pill.
“In fact I did. I confirmed what Shepard testified so far.” She closed her eyes for a few heartbeats to gather her thoughts and courage. “As for controlling Shepard, the fact that you suspect manipulation reveals that you can imagine why it would sound logical to do so.”
Ashley pondered.

“I can imagine Cerberus doing pretty much anything unethical.”

“Fair enough,” Miranda nodded. “What Shepard probably did not tell you was, that I was actually for the control chip.”

Williams narrowed her eyes, the little trust she had in Miranda seemingly dissipating. Miranda looked at her with a bitter smirk.
“I had long arguments with The Illusive Man to include a chip for safety measures.”

“You are making quite a case against yourself here,” Williams frowned.

“I know,” Miranda shrugged. “But I admitted this to Shepard himself right at the very beginning. I also told him that The Illusive Man was adamant that we bring him back with his mind as intact as possible. No tampering whatsoever. No amount of reasoning could convince The Illusive Man. He had an almost religious conviction about it… Hence the name of the project, I suppose.”

“So why are you telling it to me now?”

“Because Shepard probably did not put it into his testimony. Probably to protect me.”

“Why would he do that?”

“You would have to ask him that.”
Williams sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“I suppose they would have found that chip, or the trace of it.”

“So you know they looked for it.”

“Of course…” Ashley paused. “But that doesn’t actually mean that you didn’t tamper with his mind some other way.”

“I don’t expect you to know this, Commander, but that would have actually been altering his personality, and risking that his decision-making and reasoning would become compromised. In this sense, The Illusive Man was right.”
“But why? Why did he risk Shepard bailing out on him?”

“He needed that Shepard, the one who could defy authority and orders if needed to, to achieve his goal, and to bend others to his will… The Illusive Man knew that Shepard would put humanity’s interest above everything else.” Miranda paused. “A chip would have been safer. With a switch in my pocket, to flip it if he were to do something suicidal or erratic.”
Ashley’s eyes flashed.

“You are not helping yourself.”

“On the contrary. I am telling you something that only Shepard and I can know, and you can verify it. I’m sure the boffins already got hold of Shepard’s DNA and brain scans from the records and compared it to his current biology. If they didn’t yet, they would find it a perfect match. He was not tampered with.”
“You are quite sure of that for someone who admitted an intention of foul play.”

“Because I’m that good. Your Shepard is still the same as he was before. The Illusive Man was right to argue that we leave his mind intact. And I am telling you the truth because by testifying against myself will hopefully convince you.”
“I can’t verify what you just said. Even if I get back to Earth, they won’t let me see the evidence.”

“And why is that?” Miranda inquired, putting a hand behind her head to keep her back straight, pushing her chest out so she could breathe easily.
Williams quickly tore her gaze away and went to get her drink before returning to the couch and sitting down on the coffee table.

“Above my security clearance,” she muttered.

“That’s a shame, Commander Williams. And it’s very telling of the Alliance politics.” Miranda quickly went over the events in her mind, searching for something for Williams to chew on. “Especially since despite the Alliance’s misgivings, Admiral Hackett was covertly sending Shepard on errands all over the place. It was quite a nuisance.”
“Yeah, whatever. It’s not enough. And still doesn’t explain why he struck a deal with your boss and went rogue.”
“You are still quite naive, Commander,” Miranda remarked, trying not to laugh. “You know Shepard. He was not easily convinced, but he also didn’t have much of a choice. Insane amounts of resources were spent on bringing him back. If you think it over, you’ll realize that he did not ‘work’ for Cerberus as much as he made a temporary alliance to save lives. And if you think about the alternatives, you could see that Shepard probably would not have fared as well with the Alliance if he refused Cerberus. Would he have gotten the resources? The funds? The permission? Or he would have had to break the rules… again. Just think about that… He followed the evidence. Just like you do now.”
Williams scoffed and slumped back into the chair, avoiding looking at Miranda as she pondered, chewing her lips in frustration, it seemed. Miranda took the opportunity to present her own case while Williams was still confused.
“Ask yourself this, Commander Williams: What would it take for someone who was the right hand of The Illusive Man for almost twenty years, and who wanted to implant a control chip into the brain of the most important human in the galaxy, to turn against Cerberus? Who would be capable of changing their mind? Would he do that if he was really working for Cerberus and under their spell? I am your proof. And the assassins sent after me.”
Ashley Williams finally looked at her, and their eyes met. Her cheeks were flushed, probably from the frustration and the anger at the lack of absolute proof and the fact that she would have to concede Miranda’s point. Miranda could understand it. She hated to concede in an argument, too.
The silence grew between them, Williams looking away again. Miranda could appreciate that she was not rambling on and did not find the silence as an admittance of anything. The marine had to lower her shields, pondering, no doubt, if she could believe Miranda and accept her argument.
“Were you…” Williams started, very obviously looking away. “...were you involved? With Shepard?”

Miranda suppressed a smile. She had to admit, it was a logical question. Given her genetic makeup and the fact that she labored over him for two years, one could easily come to the conclusion that the nurse has fallen for the patient, and the patient for the smartest girl around. Especially since he managed to convince her to part with Cerberus.

“No, Commander,” she said slowly, closing her eyes. “I had my doubts about the project and did not trust Shepard… And I understood he had an– affair with Dr. T’Soni. I was not interested in inconvenient melodrama and emotional tensions. They are a distraction and we could not afford to jeopardize our mission.”
That came out colder than she intended to, painting her in an unflattering light. She didn’t care. She was getting groggy. They were talking for hours now, and she was still battered and sore.
She decided to change subject.

“Why did you come to me, Commander?” she asked softly.

That roused Williams from her thoughts. She looked at Miranda with a vague expression.
“You were the only one I could find.”

Miranda snorted.

“That’s flattering.” She paused. “Still. How is it that the easiest person to find was someone who runs and hides professionally from at least two fractions?”
Ashley shrugged.

“I just followed the assassins. Those led me to you.”

Miranda nodded. She didn’t believe that it was the full story but she let it slide.
“What about the rest of the Normandy crew?”
“Well,” Ashley sighed. “Garrus went back to Palaven. Not easy to catch up with him. Taylor vanished. The asari Justicar was not an option. The salarian went home, too and promptly vanished, too. I doubt the krogan would have been useful. That biotic… Jack… Hackett got her a teaching job at Grissom. I could go talk to her, but she freaks me out, and she probably wouldn’t talk to me either. Joker is useless, too protective, and prone to… exaggerate. He is hiding something. Tali returned to the Fleet, the other mercenaries went their own way, too. They couldn’t have told me too much anyway. Liara was not on board and her involvement ended where yours began. So…”
“So of all the people that were hard to find, I was the easiest to find…” Miranda asked dubiously.

Ashley shrugged again.

“You were the best chance to give me relevant information. And believe me, the only list you were on before, was the most wanted list. I was not particularly happy to go after you without taking you in. I’m breaking a few rules as it is.”

“Again: flattering.”
Williams shook her head in frustration and rubbed her forehead.

“Never mind. I’ll sort it out later... Tell me what happened after Horizon…”
Miranda shook her head. “Later. I need some rest and a bit of sleep,” she said slowly, focusing on forming the words correctly. “I’II doubt I could tell you any more than is in the ship’s logs and the crew reports. I kept the records clean and tidy…”
“Fine. We will pick this up later,” Williams conceded thoughtfully.

Miranda shrugged.

“Mkay,” she murmured, and already pulled a blanket on her, very carefully. She could have sworn she saw something in Williams’ eyes, maybe pity or even a bit of empathy. Not that she needed it, it even made her blush a bit in defiance. Miranda Lawson did not need anybody’s pity.
As she settled in she absently wondered about how Williams applied the medigel on her ribs. Her memories were vague about last night, but she did remember how Williams held her and pulled her up, and how unnervingly intimate it felt. Ah, well, it was only the shock and the pain, making her feel too vulnerable, that’s all. She’ll sleep it off, starting right now.
*****
Miranda drifted in and out of sleep for the rest of the day, waking up to sudden jolts of pain, taking deep breaths and then waiting until the pain dulled enough so she could fall asleep again. She knew that it was only the first 24 hours that was unbearable, but it didn’t help her mood.
Williams asked her if she needed more painkillers, which earned her a gaze that would have made anybody shiver from some imaginary cold. Williams remained unfazed, though, shrugging impatiently and got back to watching holovids.
Miranda wanted to avoid taking drugs in case she starts to blurt out secrets and thoughts she didn’t want to share with anyone. On the other hand, having multiple broken ribs on both sides and having to take deep breaths was akin to torture.
The third time she woke up, she was sweating, her hair sticking to her head, the bathrobe she wrapped herself in clinging to her heavily. She realized she woke up to the door opening and Williams entering with a bag of some cheap fast food that Miranda normally wouldn’t have touched. Sadly, these were hard times and she had to get used to them again.
Miranda very carefully stood up, remembering to breathe deeply, followed by painful grimaces. She was feeling much better, thanks to her superior genetics, but Williams probably didn’t know that, so she needed to play the part.
It was amusing to watch Williams’ discomfort while Miranda sat around in the kitchen area or on the couch in only the robe, like she was at home and the marine was just a guest. Miranda knew exactly how and when to cross her legs or stretch (as gracefully as her ribs allowed it) to make any man melt so she could wrap them around her fingers. She was quite good at it. Taunting another woman and making them jealous about her looks was also something she was familiar with it.
Behaving like she was in a classy hotel while Williams was stuck with her wardrobe of army slacks and tees was… entertaining. It also helped to avoid offtopic questions that the other woman might have had. After half a day of stewing in a cheap synthetic robe, however, she was decidedly less graceful and alluring, not to mention the patchwork of purple and green all over her torso. She winced as she carefully touched them to check the pain level. It was better. She still looked like a zombie in the making.
The foul mood was not fake, though. She hated hiding out in dingy motels, especially when it was not her choice.
Ashley followed Miranda’s gaze to the boxes of food she was unpacking. “It’s not that bad,” Ashley shrugged, opening the plastic boxes, letting out the spicy smells.

“Eugh,” Miranda rolled her eyes as she limped towards the shower like her life depended on it. She let the bathrobe fall to the floor halfway there, which in turn made Ashley roll her eyes and scoff.

“What is it with you and running around naked?” she exclaimed, trying not to look at the curvaceous backside as Miranda attacked the shower again.
This time she didn’t stall for time, though, partly because she was hungry. It took more time to dress, however. The underwear and the jacket was easy, but the pants were a torture and she felt quite miserable by the end.
She emerged more or less collected and sat down at the counter, doing her best to eat with restraint. It could have been worse.

“See? Not bad,” Ashley said placatingly.

Miranda nodded reluctantly and they ate in silence.

“So what did it take?” Williams asked after a while, curiously. “To make you leave Cerberus?”
Miranda took a deep breath. She successfully avoided this topic so far. She didn’t want to talk about personal stuff, but in the end, she shrugged. The marine earned to know this much.

“Shepard seems to have an… uncanny ability to see past the facades,” she said musingly. “I’m sure you had a similar experience. That he can see the person you really are– or the one you want to be.”
This seem to have hit a chord with Williams as she kept quiet and chewed her food thoughtfully. Miranda remembered the marine’s file and how she was kept at groundside positions despite her performance, until Shepard took her under his wing.

“That’s not all, though, isn’t it?” Williams asked finally, shooting a curious glance at Miranda from the corner of her eyes.

“No. He did make me see things in a different way, though.”

“How?”
Miranda smirked as her thoughts wandered back to their time on the Normandy. “Maybe some other time,” she shook her head, pushing away the empty plate. “It will make more sense if you knew the whole story.
Ashley nodded reluctantly and leaned back, letting Miranda gather the dishes.

“My turn,” she nodded towards the shower and slowly stood up.
She looked a bit tired, and probably slept little, too, staying alert. Being in the same clothes all the time also didn’t help feeling fresh.
Miranda nodded as she limped around the kitchen area, cleaning up after themselves. After she heard the bathroom door close and the water rush, she became much more animated. She quickly popped two pills and gulped it down with a glass of water, then, clinging onto the counter with one hand and trying to keep her torso as straight as possible, she started to pull on her boots.
It involved a lot of jaw clenching, hissing and groaning, awkward positions and sharp jolts of pain until she managed that, already starting to sweat again. She took a quick look around, fastening her omnitool on her wrist and as quietly as possible, she slipped out of the motel room.

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