Aftermath

Chapter 3

When Oriana came in for her morning vital statistics check the next day, she stopped short. The room was empty. A wave of panic seized her until a noise from the bathroom drew her attention.

"Commander Shepard?"

Shepard was leaning against the sink, studying herself in the mirror. She was barely recognizable even to herself. Her cheeks were sunken and hollow, her eyes shrouded in dark circles, their normally vibrant blue, dull and bloodshot. Her red hair was dark and limp. Red, raw patches of new skin covered her everywhere. Neuro-sutures held together what was going to be an angry scar above her left eye. Her left side, where most of the pain still originated from, remained discolored and was marred by angry scars even though the damage had been done months prior. She ran her finger tips gently over the jagged raised tissue of the scar on her side, her mind flashing to the memory of pulling her hand away from the same area and seeing it thick with blood. Her blood.

"It looks bad," Oriana stated, "but your recovery is actually quite remarkable."

Shepard offered her a small smile before pushing herself up a little straighter. "My left side seems to be where I have the most pain."

Oriana nodded. "I believe it took the brunt of the blast."

"I had a pretty bad injury there before the blast," Shepard muttered, her thoughts drifting back to the darkness.

"In that case, since your armor was already compromised in that area, the blast likely did more damage there than anywhere else."

Shepard nodded, looking back at herself. Not understanding how she survived at all. Not convinced she did.

Finally she turned to face Oriana, "Ok, lets get to work."

###

Shepard spent the next few days pushing her recovery. Oriana commented on how remarkably fast her improvement was after lying in a coma for nine months. But to Shepard, with Liara's life in the balance, nothing was fast enough.

When the time came to leave the med facility to meet the ship Miranda had arranged, Shepard was moving confidently under her own power and her color had returned to normal. Her left side still ached but on the day before they left she'd been able to launch into a full sprint without completely collapsing afterwards.

Oriana's help and encouragement had been invaluable. She had blushed when Shepard told her she had a gift for caring for people.

They met with Miranda over vid com before departing. Her blue-ish three dimensional image paced as she spoke, "I've arranged for the ship but you'll be flying it yourself. We can't risk exposure to anyone if it can be avoided. And you'll need to wear your cover at all times."

Shepard glanced over at the Quarian enviro suite Miranda had provided. She'd be fully masked head to toe as all Quarians were and no one would question why. She picked up the gloves, shoving her five fingers into the form of three in the gloves, then wiggled them experimentally. "This will take a little getting used to," she muttered to herself.

"We've also included a voice modulator in the mask, so you can talk regularly and the mask will do the rest," Oriana added.

"Good," Shepard gave Oriana a quick smile before turning her attention back to Miranda. "Have you tried contacting Liara?"

Miranda grimaced, anger flashing briefly in normally stoic eyes. "Of course," she snapped. "I haven't spoken to her directly but her... people claim they are fully prepared. My sources continue to indicate otherwise. The Asari can be... arrogant."

Shepard frowned, knowing Liara was anything but and noting Miranda's obvious frustration. It only steeled her resolve to address the threat herself.

"Does she know about me? That I'm alive?" she managed to keep most of the strain from her voice.

"No, there's just no way to do that securely."

Shepard nodded, absently running a finger along the new scar on her forehead.

"Shepard, you know I'm still very much against this idea," Miranda said leaning forward.

"Noted," Shepard responded.

"Very well," she sighed. "Then you should be going. I'll continue to monitor the situation and inform you of any intel I come across. These terrorists have been hard to spot. They send in small infiltration groups and have members from many species working with them so it could be anyone."

"All the more reason to suspect they aren't ex-Cerberus," Shepard mumbled, memories of the former pro-human group flickering before her.

"One last thing," Oriana interjected.

Miranda raised an eyebrow, "Yes, what is it?"

"I'm going with Commander Shepard," she said, trying to sound as confident as possible.

"The hell you are!" Miranda snapped. "It's far too dangerous. I won't allow you to put yourself in harms way."

"Neither will I," Shepard said. "She can stay with the ship, far from the action."

Oriana smiled, happy to have Shepard's support.

"I don't want you involved with this," Miranda insisted.

"Miranda," Oriana stepped closer to the vid, "I love you but you can't protect me by making me a prisoner. I want to be there in case Commander Shepard is injured. I can also report back to you what I see." She paused, "I know you've worked my whole life to protect me, to try to give me the normal life that you weren't offered. But I want this. I want to help." She allowed herself a smile, "And remember I'm just as genetically stubborn as you are."

Miranda shook her head slowly, then locked eyes with Shepard. "Take care of her," she said darkly, and logged off without another word.