For two years, Rasa waited. Fitting-Shepard herself waited two years to come back from the void. It only makes sense that her replacement do the same. Several times Rasa, then going by the name Hope Lillium, had considered destroying the clone. Transporting the pod proved difficult, if not dangerous. Several times she risked waking it at an inopportune time. Even then, Rasa couldn't be sure if the clone would wake up at all. Operative Miranda Lawson hadn't cloned Shepard for anything but spare parts.

And yet…

Why bother cloning Shepard's brain if it would not work in similar fashion? Rasa knew Miranda—she wouldn't do anything half-assed. Every detail of Shepard's clone would be as close to the original as possible. Anything else would be a liability to Cerberus, and the rest of the galaxy.

Part of Rasa hoped Shepard would prove her wrong—that she would abandon her alien ass-kissing and start fighting for her own. She followed Shepard's exploits against the Collectors, watched through Cerberus's own security systems as she survived yet another suicide mission, with her entire team intact. Of course, the saint had to destroy the technology rather than hand it to Cerberus (for all the good that did.)

And then Hackett called Shepard for a favor, and Shepard destroyed an entire Batarian system. For one brief moment, Rasa had hope that something in Shepard had changed. Perhaps after taking down the Collector Base, she had finally come to her senses about the Council—about how each race only looked out for itself—about how humanity had to take care of its own.

And then Shepard turned herself in.

The Reapers wouldn't wait for the Alliance to declare her innocence. Humanity needed a better hero. Rasa would provide that hero.

If only she could figure out how.

Rasa stood in front of a virtual interface, a much less expensive and more rudimentary one than the Illusive Man favored, but it suited her needs well enough. She had dossiers on all of Shepard's known associates scattered across the interface, and she rifled through several of them as she searched for her answer.

The Consort? Too well-known. Though perhaps her memories of Shepard would prove useful in the future.

Shiala? Her cipher couldn't be that useful now that the Reapers had invaded. The clone would be too easily recognized among the colonists on Feros.

Liara T'soni? She would have so many more memories of Shepard than the others, personal memories. And yet…

Bloody hell, Rasa thought to herself, sweeping several dossiers to the side. Damn Shepard and all her alien followers. It's not like they ever came to her rescue after her arrest. Rasa rubbed her face, nearly calling it a night. And then her eyes fell upon Dr. Okeer's dossier.

The bad doctor had died shortly after meeting Shepard. Rasa had filed it away, not all that interested in the mad Krogan's experiments, nor in his 'perfect' krogan who later assisted Shepard against the Collectors. One word caught Rasa's eyes, and she smiled.

Turning toward the stasis pod behind her, Rasa slid a hand down its glass surface, eyeing the shadow of a body inside. "Perhaps there's hope for you yet."

Rasa followed Rana Thanoptis for seven days following her discovery. The former scientist led a quiet life. She rarely left her apartment on Hayeiana's largest city: Serrice, and even then it was only to order take out or to visit her place of employment—the Serrice Military Development Center. Rana had no known companions or associates outside of the Serrrice laboratories, making her the perfect target.

Inside, Rana sprawled out on her sofa, watching the latest Blasto sequel. Thanoptis glanced up as her doorbell rang. Strange, her delivered dinner had arrived an hour before. Yawning, she paused the vid and made her way to the door. Hopefully whoever it was wouldn't take much of her time—Rana needed to go to bed soon. She pressed the intercom button, pulling up a live feed of the delivery woman outside.

"Delivery!" She chirped, waving a datapad in front of the camera. Her long dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and her brown eyes glimmered in the screen.

"I didn't order anything." Between the Blue Suns and Serrice's rival companies, Thanoptis had enough enemies. She wouldn't open the door for just anyone.

"Must be a gift…from an admirer! Whomever it was didn't leave a name…." She glanced down at her datapad. "Oh! Wait. Here it is." The delivery woman laughed nervously. "No first name…but the last name is Shepard."

Rana blinked. "This must be some sort of joke. Shepard barely let me out alive either time. You can tell her that I rejected the pack—"

"Wait! There's a note!" The delivery woman stepped closer, clearing her throat. "Dear Rana, sorry for Virmire and Korlus. I might need your help soon, so take this as my ap—"

"Alright, alright. Come in. No need to read her note to whole neighborhood." Rana buzzed her inside. She watched the delivery woman wheel a tall package inside on a dolly. It stood as tall as her, if not a meter taller. One hell of an apology.

"So, do you need me to sign something or-?" Rana almost turned around, and then she felt a muzzle of a gun at her back.

"I'm afraid I'll need much more than that."