A/N: Without boring you all with the angsty details, this will be my last update for the short-term future. I've had some changes in my personal circumstances that require my immediate and undivided attention. I apologise to all of those wonderful people that are following this story and my other two. I promise I will be back as soon as the storm has passed. Thank you again for all the follows, favourites and reviews. Your support means a lot, especially at this particularly difficult time. Enjoy.

SACRIFICE

PART II

19 Years Ago

"Ah, Miranda Lawson, it's nice to finally meet you."

Miranda shuffles nervously into the circular room, the hand of Operative Petrovsky on her shoulder, guiding her. The man - her new boss - sits in a chair, leaning casually on one of the arms, a lit cigarette in one hand, a drink in the other. He's nicely dressed in a crisp grey suit, with shiny black shoes, his brown hair parted slightly to the side. He looks so... normal, it's almost comforting, but it gives her a slight sense of worry. Will this man really be able to protect her?

Her extremities shake ever so slightly. She has taken her first lives tonight, and has been responsible for the deaths of others. She's never considered herself a killer; she's never been prone to violence at all. But it had come so naturally, the sensitive trigger mechanism of her stolen pistol just begging to be squeezed. Her aim had been perfect, her eyes easily seeking out and pointing the muzzle at the vitals of any person that was stupid enough to stand between her and freedom. The small, button sized holes that had appeared on her victim's bodies, the racing hearts pumping out the red liquid too quickly for the body to defend itself by clotting the blood. Killing was simple. Far less complicated than negotiating her way out of there would have been. And most disturbing of all, is that she doesn't even feel particularly guilty...

"You too, sir," she mumbles as she stands under his appraising gaze.

She is used to being viewed as an object, it's all she's ever known. Since the day her father had his DNA sequence mutated and embedded into an artificial ovum, Miranda has been a commodity. She's grown up under the gaze of a man that watched her every move, constantly judging her worthiness. This should be no different. But it makes her skin crawl as his eyes sum up her parts. There's so much resting on being deemed good enough.

"Petrovsky informs me that you handled yourself well tonight. Impressive," he says, folding one leg over the other, resting his ankle on the opposite knee at a 90 degree angle.

"Thank you sir," she says with a bit more conviction, forcing herself to meet his eyes confidently. Nobody's going to be impressed by a meek child. She's Miranda Lawson; engineered and trained for perfection. The last fifteen years of lessons and loneliness needs to be worth something.

"We've organised a family for the baby, if that's a concern for you."

"Oriana?" Miranda asks with a furrowed brow, suddenly aware that she hasn't seen her baby sister since they were both sent to different rooms in the med-wing. "I... was hoping she could stay with me."

He takes a drag of his cigarette and stands up from his seat, circling Miranda's almost-adult form. "I apologise if you were under that impression, Miss Lawson, but keeping the baby here is not a realistic possibility. We're severing an important business relationship with your father by bringing you on board. We'll need you to earn your way. I want to make sure that is completely clear to you before we go any further."

"Understood sir," she says, standing tall and keeping her head raised, not letting her voice or her body language display her absolute heartbreak. She chides herself for the foolish belief. They've recruited an asset in her, a tool for them to use, not a teen mother.

Oriana is safe. She can go to a normal family, live a normal life, and never, ever have to hear the name Henry Lawson. That's the main thing. That's what Miranda fought for. What she threw everything away and ran for. What she will spend the rest of her life following this man's orders for. Anything else from this point on is irrelevant. She is irrelevant. As long as Ori is safe…

"Good," he responds with a nodding head. "Given your age, we'll continue with your education. We'll decide on your specialisation once your natural talents have displayed themselves. We'll also train you to use your biotics offensively, and once you've turned 16, Oleg here will do weapons training with you. Any questions?"

"Just one," she says, keeping her gaze trained on him, afraid that the request will make her look weak, but not quite sure how she'll live out the next 200 years of her life if she doesn't ask. "Can I say goodbye to my sister?"

Taking a long drag of his cigarette, he shakes his head solemnly. "I'm sorry, Miranda. She's already left the base. We like to keep things simple at Cerberus. I didn't want to risk you having an emotional breakdown over a long, drawn out goodbye."

Miranda covers her mouth and stifles the whimper that threatens to escape her lips. She bites down hard on her bottom lip and refuses to let the tears spill. Miranda Lawson doesn't cry. Especially in front of other people. She can pine for her sister tonight, when she goes to bed. Alone, where nobody can see. This is the price she has to pay to secure their freedom. Nothing ever comes for free, she knew that coming in. It's for the best, anyway. Emotions will have no place in this life she is about to start.

She blinks rapidly for a few seconds, pushing away the salt water, before dropping her hand from her mouth and facing him. "It's fine, sir. No emotional breakdown necessary."

He smiles a small, impressed smile to himself. "Your father spoke highly of the young woman he was shaping you into. His methods may have been questionable, but he's obviously got results. We're lucky to have you, Miranda."

"Thank you, sir. I won't let you down."

"And I'll hold you to that." Stroking his clean shaven jawline, he takes a quick sip of his drink. "You've had a long day. I'll have Oleg here show you to your room. There were no spare bunks in the female dorms, so you're on your own in cabin 4, I'm afraid."

She nods her head briskly. "Fine by me, sir. I prefer to be on my own anyway. I work better that way."

He nods and offers her a hand. She takes it and accepts his handshake. "I see a big future here for you, Miranda. I know we've made the right choice."

"Yes, you have," she says confidently, holding the older man's gaze as he releases his grip on her hand and gives her a satisfied smirk.

Miranda clings to Shepard's hand with all her strength, as the commander looks up, desperate for salvation. It's a mirror of the positions they'd been in just a few minutes earlier, when the human-Reaper had brought the entire platform down, and Miranda's life had been saved by a tug of Shepard's wrist. It puts a whole new dramatic spin on the saying 'I trust you with my life,' but it feels appropriate.

Using a biotic boost, Miranda drags the soldier back onto the Normandy, snapping her frame forward and slamming her fist into the airlock the moment the other woman is safely on board.

"We're all clear, Moreau. Get us out of here," Miranda calls into the comm as she sinks back to the ground, her exhausted legs giving way beneath her.

"Aye aye, ma'am," Joker responds, as the ship lurches upwards.

The three women - two human, one quarian - lay on the ground of the airlock, taking heaving, burning breaths in and out as the decontamination field washes over them. The silence that passes between them is long and expansive, punctuated only by their loud panting.

"That… was fucked," Shepard finally says, pushing herself up to a sitting position and brushing some loose hair out of her face.

Miranda pauses for a long moment, staring at Shepard with a blank expression on her face, before the laughter suddenly erupts from her chest. It's ridiculous, Shepard's words weren't even particularly funny, but it all comes spilling out in that moment in an uncontrolled set of spasms arising from her throat. The tension, the relief, the overwhelming sense of freedom, it overcomes her, and she has tears running down her cheeks and a stitch in her side after only a few hysterical minutes.

Shepard scoots closer and pats Miranda's back gently. "It's okay. You did good, little M. I'm so proud of you. Now, let's keep moving. We've got stuff to do."

Pulling Miranda to her feet, followed by Tali, Shepard leads them through the port-side airlock and past the engineering deck to the elevator. The only sound in the empty hallway is an uneven tapping sound. Miranda looks down and notices her gait is off, her stiff legs carrying her awkwardly, the heels of her boots clicking without their usual purposeful rhythm. She wonders exactly what percent of her body is covered in bruises right now, her closest guess being somewhere between 95-97%. Then again, she did just have a Collector base collapse around her, so injuries aren't entirely unexpected.

Shepard paces back and forth in the elevator the whole way up to the third level, her jaw clenching and unclenching like it always does whenever she's thinking. Her eyes are hooded, her expression unclear, but there's obviously something still bothering her. When the elevator comes to a stop, Shepard turns towards Miranda.

"I need to borrow Tali and do some stuff in my cabin. I'll be as quick as I can. Get the crew some water and protein bars ASAP, and you and Mordin treat any injuries they've sustained. We'll head straight to Omega for supplies."

"Can it wait, Shepard?" Miranda asks, stepping out of the elevator with a scowl, "I think the squad and crew would appreciate seeing you."

"It can't wait. I won't be long." Shepard leans out of the lift and gives Miranda a kiss on the cheek, before stepping back inside the carriage and pressing the button to the captain's cabin.

Miranda becomes momentarily rooted to the spot by the surprise of Shepard abandoning her team. It's just so unlike her... Hearing the quiet voices of the crew in the next room, Miranda turns on her heel and rounds the corner, her emotions swinging the pendulum back and forth between disappointed and angry. There's nothing more important than the welfare of their squad and crew at this moment. Shepard not being there for them when they need her is… unacceptable. She may be dealing with some pent up stress, but she's an experienced Commander, she knows better than this. Miranda does her best to shrug it off and steel herself. The crew needs a leader, and right now, she's it.

She steps into the mess hall, which has become an unofficial holding bay, and goes straight into Executive Officer mode. The crew are triaged, most are suffering shock and slight dehydration, but some of the crew who had attempted to fight off the Collectors are in worse shape. Donnelly has a broken nose, Hadley has a heavy concussion and Gardner has a dislocated shoulder.

The squad are battered and bruised, but largely unharmed, so Miranda puts them all to work. Samara and Zaeed deal with deploying the water and food, while Mordin and Miranda set themselves up in the med-bay to deal with the more severe injuries. Grunt and Jack start doing what they do best, "lifting heavy shit", as Miranda assigns them to clearing the debris in the CIC. Garrus and Thane do their best to get the engine room back up to scratch, while Kasumi and Jacob help Joker in the cockpit. All the time, Shepard and Tali remain holed up in the captain's cabin, and Miranda's annoyance with her partner grows by the minute.

Sometime after Miranda has finished wrenching Gardner's shoulder back into place, and just after she's heard the satisfying crunch of resetting Donnelly's nose, Karin Chakwas enters the med-bay.

"Do you need my help, Miranda?" Chakwas asks softly, fidgeting with her hands as if she's afraid of staying still.

Miranda shoots Donnelly full of a pain-killer and sedative combination, before sending him to his bunk for some desperately needed sleep. She turns towards the doctor and shakes her head as she crosses the room.

"No thank you Karin. You need to rest."

"I could use the distraction," Chakwas murmurs, settling herself down in her desk chair and pulling out a bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy with two accompanying glasses. She pours both tumblers to their fullest capacity, offering one over to Miranda with a shaky hand. "I don't know if I'll ever get those images out of my head. All that death…"

"The human psyche is remarkably resilient," Miranda answers quickly, pulling off her disposable gloves and binning them, before accepting the glass. She drags the closest chair over and lowers herself into it, before she realises what a truly terrible attempt at comfort that was. Lifting her hand and placing it awkwardly on Chakwas' knee, she tries again. "You're a strong woman, Karin. You'll be okay."

Chakwas nods and takes a deep sip of her drink, rubbing her tired head with one hand. "Where's Janey?"

"Shepard's up in her cabin," Miranda answers, carefully covering the annoyance in her tone, "Apparently she has a few loose ends to tie up."

Chakwas raises her eyebrows, looking slightly taken aback, but doesn't make any further remark, and Miranda doesn't elaborate. She looks the doctor over closely. The woman is exhausted and traumatised, but alive. Thank God. Not that Miranda wouldn't be upset in her own right to lose the lady doctor, but the effect the loss would have had on Shepard would be beyond destructive.

Miranda mulls over her drink for a moment. Her body has become an aching mess as the adrenalin has slowly worn off, but the alcohol will be a good substitute. She'll deal with the injuries eventually, but for now she has things to do. Speaking to Karin Chakwas is one of them.

"I have something personal I wanted to discuss," Miranda says gently, taking a sip of her own brandy, feeling the delightful warmth spread down her throat and into her chest. Chakwas gives her a crisp nod, and Miranda folds one leg over the other with an uncharacteristic lack of grace. "When we were in… there, Shepard whispered something to you that seemed to be upsetting. May I ask what it was?"

Chakwas becomes momentarily glassy eyed, and she distracts herself with another long sip of her alcohol, emptying most of the glass in one hit. Clearing her throat and running an elegant hand through her chin length grey hair, she meets Miranda's eyes.

"She told me that I was the first person she'd ever loved. She... thanked me for it, just in case she didn't make it out of there."

Miranda forces herself to take another sip of brandy to cover the look of surprise on her face. "Shepard thought she was going to die in there? She always appeared so confident whenever her and I had spoken about it. Arrogant, some might say."

"Of course she did," Chakwas responds, smiling sadly, "She has to be confident of success. She's the Commander. Any hesitation on her part and the morale of the entire ship would fall apart. Bravado is her... shield. She's gotten so used to carrying it, that people barely even notice when it's up. Surely you know that?"

"She does deflect with humour quite a lot," Miranda replies thoughtfully, allowing another sip to pass her lips and warm her body.

Chakwas nods and closes her eyes briefly, snapping them open as her body starts to relax. "I think it's easier for her. Showing fear or sadness is weakness in her eyes. I was hoping she'd grow out of it, but she hasn't yet."

Miranda stares at the contents of her glass, a fixed frown on her face. "Do you think I should go up there?"

"No," Karin answers, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, "She'll come down when she's ready. Whatever she's doing up there must be important."

Putting her glass down on the desk, Miranda grasps the doctor's elbow and guides her to her feet. "You need to sleep. I'll administer a sedative, and you can take my bed. It's more private, and you can stretch out."

Chakwas shakes her head and makes her way to the door. "No thank you, Miranda. I don't need to sleep, I need to be useful. I might go and help Mordin inject the antibiotics into the crew."

Miranda nods slowly as the doctor exits the room. It appears she's not the only workaholic aboard the Normandy. Resuming her previous position on the chair, Miranda takes the opportunity to just sit for the first time since they hit the relay. Bringing the glass of brandy back to her lips, she slumps back slightly, not concerned with the effect the position will have on her posture. Nursing this drink and then going straight to sleep are the highest ranking priorities in her life right now. Straight spines be damned.

"Miranda?" The comm-link startles her out of her mind's exhausted lull. "Can you meet me in the comm-room. The Illusive Man wants to talk to us. This oughta be good."

Miranda inclines her head and polishes off the last of her drink. Maybe now that things are less intense, the situation can be somewhat remedied. She can't go back to her previous position of employment - at this stage, she's seen far too much of the true face of Cerberus - but the Illusive Man is a logical and reasonable man, this doesn't need to end in a war.

"I'll be right there, Shepard."

The white grids of light move up from the floor to scan their bodies. As the holo travels to the tops of their heads, the Illusive Man comes into view, sitting in his seat, a cigarette in one hand, a bourbon in the other. For the first time, Miranda sees it for what it is. A mask. The pretence of civility, when really, he is fuming inside.

"You've made a big mistake, Shepard," he says, barely lifting his eyes to meet the commander's gaze.

"Doubtful," Shepard replies, crossing her arms over her chest, "I wouldn't trust you with that base if my life depended on it."

"I should've known you'd choke on the hard decisions. You were too idealistic, right from the start."

Smothering her laughter, Shepard cocks her head. "Idealistic? I was born a realist. And the reality is that you're just too fucking crazy to trust with Reaper tech. Case closed."

"We'll see," he says, more to himself than anything. "Miranda was right all along. It was a mistake not to control you. A mistake I won't be repeating in the future."

"Yeah? You should make that the tagline on your recruitment propaganda. The sign-up numbers will go through the roof," Shepard quips bitterly.

His gaze suddenly shifts to Miranda, and she feels her skin crawl all over again, as she's suddenly transported back into the mind-set of a fifteen year old child, having those eyes sum her up for the first time, deciding whether she was good enough to take in, or if she would be thrown back to wolf. "Shepard was always going to be a risk. A wild-card. You told me that. Her betrayal isn't completely unexpected. But you're the one I'm really disappointed in, Miranda. I thought you understood what Cerberus stood for. I thought you understood what it meant to fight for humanity."

"I do, sir," Miranda answers curtly, putting her hands on her hips. "Shepard has shown me exactly what it means to fight for humanity - without compromising my integrity in the process."

He scratches the bridge of his nose, poorly masking his irritability. "It's a shame. You were special. Gifted. I thought of you as... a protege. It will grieve me to lose my best, but I need to regain control of the situation. It really has been a pleasure working with you, but I'm sure you understand, all good things come to an end."

"Yes, they do," Miranda answers with a terse nod.

A smile twitches at his lips, and he strokes his chin to hide it. "I never wanted it to come to this, but I'm afraid you've forced my hand. Cerberus has lost its way, and with the upcoming Reaper threat, we need to head in a new direction. That means re-establishing connections with some of our... more like-minded contacts. It wasn't the way I wanted to do things, but he insisted, and Henry Lawson was so grateful when we gave him Oriana's location. His men were despatched half an hour ago."

Miranda's breath catches in her chest. The words hang in the air, ringing in Miranda's ears. She feels the galaxy stop shifting as time stands still. The oxygen leaves the room, and her heart drops into the pit of her abdomen. Oriana. This is the second time the Illusive Man has taken her away without permission, without even letting Miranda say goodbye. But this time, instead of stealing her away to the promise of normalcy, he's condemned her to the life of Henry Lawson's choosing. This is hell.

The ghost of the threat against Oriana has always been subtly hanging in the background, keeping Miranda in line. It's one of the major reasons that nobody else has ever known about the younger Lawson, not even Niket. Knowing about Oriana is like having the key to Miranda's weakness, and she's never been willing to hand over that level of trust to someone. She's always been vaguely aware that if she were ever to betray Cerberus, they would no longer take active measures to keep Oriana hidden. But to have him, this pseudo father-figure that she's grown to admire and respect, sell her out so completely...

Father has Ori.

She feels the vertigo first. The sense of falling. It makes her head spin and her stomach churn. Her body temperature drops, and her limbs begin to shake. Her breathing stops and her heart palpitates so uncontrollably that she is sure she's having a heart attack. But no, it's not a heart attack, this perfect body of hers wouldn't give out on her at not even 35. She'll have to live out the rest of her days with this on her shoulders. The fact that she failed to protect the only thing that ever needed her.

This is her mistake. Her one fundamental, life-altering mistake. Her vision starts to darken as his words sink in, and she knows she's just a few short moments from fainting. This is what happens when things get personal. Shepard has blinded her, divided her love and loyalty. Miranda has unwillingly made a choice, and in that moment, she chose Shepard. Over her own sister. Over her Oriana. She's become weak, sloppy, and she's gravely underestimated her opponent. And it will be Oriana who pays the price for Miranda's indiscretion.

The background noise of the Illusive Man's rambling has continued, but his words are muffled in her ears as the blood rushes around her head, her body's last ditch attempt at keeping her conscious. She can barely see through the tears that have formed in her eyes, and she struggles to remember how to pull air into her lungs. She can taste the bile at the back of her throat - the taste of failure. The ultimate failure. The last two decades of her life... everything she fought for, everything she worked for - gone.

Shepard's hand appears on her forearm, giving it a quick squeeze as the commander brings her back into awareness, stepping past and putting her body between Miranda and the Illusive Man. Shepard successfully blocks his view, allowing Miranda a chance to drop her head into her hands in utter defeat.

Henry Lawson has Oriana. Miranda's life officially means nothing now.

"I hate to be rude," Shepard announces, giving Miranda a quick look over her shoulder, "But I'm gonna have to interrupt your monologuing right there, before you embarrass yourself."

Miranda's jaw drops slightly, and she's relieved that neither Shepard nor the Illusive Man can see the stupefied expression on her face.

Shifting her feet, her body language becoming visibly cocky, Shepard continues. "The irony that you have the word Man in your pseudonym is not lost on me. I knew you were a fucking coward the first time I met you. The kind of coward that goes after somebody's family…"

"Knowing somebody's weakness is a sound strategy, not cowardice," his reply comes, his voice straining suddenly at the unexpected response.

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but you won't exploiting anybody's weaknesses today. Henry Lawson's men might have been despatched half an hour ago, but Oriana and her family were picked up by the Alliance 45 minutes ago. They've already been relocated and put into protection. I still have some friends, as much as you tried your best to isolate me."

The blood starts to flow back into Miranda's body as she sucks in lungfuls of cleansing breaths. Shepard has protected Oriana. Without condition. Without being asked to. Without wrangling something for herself in return. Miranda steps forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with Commander Jane Shepard.

The Illusive Man's face flinches infinitesimally, and he takes a long drag of his cigarette to hide the movement. "Well played, Shepard," he says with a small nod.

Chuckling to herself and shaking her head in annoyance, Shepard narrows her eyes. "I don't play games, sir. It would serve you well to remember that, because now that the Collectors are gone, you are officially on my shit list. And I am going to make you regret ever threatening my family."

He sneers then, no longer in control of the anger etched clearly on his face. "You're a toothless tiger, Shepard. Face it, you have no allies. That crew will turn on you as soon as Cerberus' cash flow stops. You'll be on your own, without an ally in the galaxy, and you'll come to regret your actions today."

"I was hoping you'd say something about that." Bringing her hands together, Shepard's lips curl into a dark smile. "While we've been talking, you've probably missed about a hundred calls from your finance department, 'cause my top hacker just spent the last ten minutes emptying every account of yours she could find. Granted, it won't make a dent in your bankroll, but it'll keep me and mine afloat for months."

His jaw clenches in the unmistakeable sign of fury. "You've been planning this for a while, haven't you?"

"Not really, I'm just quick on the draw," Shepard says, rolling her shoulders, "I've never forgotten the things you've done. You don't just go from murdering Alliance Admirals to suddenly toeing the line. I figured you'd show your true colours eventually."

Shifting in his seat and ashing his cigarette, he gives an impatient sigh. "I'm not the enemy, Shepard. You lose focus of that too easily."

Shepard shakes her head and subtly links her fingers with Miranda. "Wrong. I know exactly what you are, and exactly where my attentions need to be focused. And once I'm done with you, I'm coming for your 'bloody Aussie mate' next. You can feel free to tell him that for me."

"You have no idea what you're doing. Lawson Mining Industries will crush you."

"You needn't concern yourself with how I handle my business. You'll be dead."

Shaking his head incredulously, he rubs his temples with one stretched hand. "Don't be too sure about that fact. I've been doing this for a long time. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"Good," Shepard shoots back, pointing an angry finger in his face, "I love a challenge. So make sure you're ready."

"Oh, I'm ready for you, Shepard," he says, finishing off the last of his drink with one quick jerk of his hand and resting his furious gaze on her, "You need to make sure that you're ready for me."

"Yeah yeah... That's what your Mom said last night," Shepard says as she turns her back and inclines her eyes to the ceiling, "EDI. Lose this channel."

The holo blinks out on the image of the Illusive Man resting his head in one hand, leaning heavily on one arm of his chair. The table rises back up from the floor, and the lighting returns to normal.

Shepard leans against the table and sighs in victory. "Fuck that felt good. Woulda been better if I'd had a cat to stroke or a moustache to twirl, but that'll have to do."

Miranda shakes her head slowly, blinking hey eyes as she takes in the last few life changing moments. "Was that... true? Ori is really safe?"

Shepard nods her head and meets Miranda's eyes. "Yeah. It took a bit of ass-kissing with Hackett, but we've come to an understanding. I might've embellished the protective custody part, but that's where we come in. Liara's working on planting a contact within Oriana's new neighbourhood, so we'll have a pair of eyes on her. Your father has no idea where she is. For now. We're going to have to deal with him eventually, you do realise that, don't you?"

"Absolutely," Miranda says, her voice full of conviction. "That's been a long time coming."

"Good," Shepard breathes out, suddenly looking tired. "Patricide isn't normally my style, but I can't have a crazy guy running around the galaxy threatening my two favourite girls."

"Agreed," Miranda says, leaning against the table beside Shepard, folding her arms loosely over her chest, "I can't believe you did this. Is that what you were doing in your cabin? Organising Ori's relocation?"

"Yeah," Shepard answers with a small, tamed smile, "And robbing Cerberus blind. Don't forget that part."

"Why didn't you just tell me?"

Shepard shrugs. "Because I didn't want to worry you. I needed you clear headed and looking after the crew. I had it sorted."

"Shepard... I..."

Miranda stops herself, feeling her throat clench with emotion. There are no words for the sense of relief she's feeling. Oriana has always been Miranda's responsibility. Now Shepard has instinctively helped her shoulder that. Ori is safe, and now she has two protectors.

Shepard reaches out for Miranda's hand. "You don't have to think of everything all the time. You're not alone anymore. We're a team, remember? We look after each other."

Miranda accepts the hand and lets herself be pulled in. Melting into Shepard's embrace, she exhales loudly, taking in the moment. The first completely free moment of her entire life. She is indebted to no-one. Shepard called her a puppet once, switching from one master to the next. Now she stands independently, in charge of her own future, her very own master. No strings attached.

"I just need to clarify one thing?" Miranda asks, pulling away from the embrace and searching Shepard's face, "Did you just sever your relationship with Cerberus on the back of a 'Yo' Momma' joke?"

Shepard answers with a lopsided smile. "Maybe."

The commander paces back and forth, the freshly rested crew sitting around haphazardly as 'Shepard's Special Smoothies' are distributed amongst them by Kasumi and Tali. Gardner will be in a sling for the next week, and Donnelly will be sporting two black eyes for the next few days, but the rest of the crew look well. Their eyes are still holding that haunted look… but that might never leave them. A hot shower, a few hours of rest and a meal has done them all the world of good.

"You all look good," Shepard says, eyeing them all off individually. "Joker told me how bravely you all fought to protect the Normandy. You have my gratitude and respect. The Collectors were no easy foe."

She comes to a stop in front of them and brings her hands behind her back. "I hate to have to do this so soon after you've gone through such a trauma, but I need to make something clear. Draw a line in the sand, as it were…"

She shifts slightly and her gaze falls on Miranda, who gives her a quick, supportive nod. "I have officially commandeered control of the Normandy SR-2. From this point on, Cerberus, and its boss, are enemy number one of this vessel's squad and crew. This organisation have been committing atrocities for over a decade, and they are finally going to be brought to justice for their crimes. I won't tolerate any sleeper agents on board my ship, so I give you this chance now."

Drawing in a deep breath, she looks around at the faces of the crew, hesitating slightly before delivering the ultimatum. "If you wish to stay on-board the Normandy under my authority, and with my new prerogative, then you're welcome aboard. If you're loyal to Cerberus, and would like to continue with them, make it clear now. No harm will come to you, and you can disembark the vessel while we're docked at Omega. But please be advised, that if I come across you at a base or a captured vessel, you will not be granted mercy just because you served on my crew once."

She rubs her shoulder, her face flashing a moment of regret. "Think about it over your milk-shakes, and do whatever you've gotta do. No matter what you choose, it's been an honour serving with all of you."

She turns quickly and heads towards the XO's office, where Miranda follows her. Once they're through the doors, Shepard slumps down on the couch, staring out the window at the skyline of Omega.

"Well... That felt like shit. Was it too much?"

Miranda slides down on the seat beside her. "No. We can't afford to have any Cerberus loyalists undermining the operation. You gave them the offer of redemption, or the promise of ruthlessness. It was perfect."

Shepard "mmm's" absentmindedly, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "Can you give me any ideas of where to go from here? You've met him face to face, where's the mother-base?"

"Cronos Station was in the Armstrong Nebula the last time I was there…" Miranda answers hesitantly, "But he's well prepared. It's a small, mobile station. He would have exited through the relay the moment you disconnected the comm. His current whereabouts are anybody's guess."

"Damn," Shepard says, bringing a hand up to her mouth and chewing on a nail, "I knew he'd make it fucking difficult."

"Yes, he will. Do you have a plan?" Miranda asks, sitting closer and resting her head on Shepard's shoulder, staring out at the garish neon lighting of her least favourite space-station.

"Well… the deal I made with Hackett to secure Oriana's relocation sort of relied on… a personal favour. I'll go and sort that out immediately, then maybe the Alliance will be willing to join forces and take out the mutual enemy."

"That makes sense. The age-old adage of 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend.' I would think your ties within the Alliance are still strong despite some of the... unpleasantness. They will certainly make powerful allies."

Shepard scratches her shoulder and shrugs. "I guess we'll see. I'll set a course for the Bahak System, then hopefully once Hackett's got his pound of flesh from me, they'll be willing to talk."

"Wait," Miranda says, frowning suddenly, "You didn't mention anything about the bloody Bahak System. Why the hell would Hackett ask you to go into batarian space?"

Shepard purses her lips and takes a hold of one of Miranda's hands. "It's just a quick smash and grab to get a deep cover agent back from one of their prisons. It's no big deal. Three days, tops. You worry too much."

"And you don't worry nearly enough. If you're caught..."

Silencing Miranda with a quick kiss, Shepard brushes the concerns off. "I'll be fine. Nothing bad will happen. I promise."