And Everything Was Possuble (Miranda, G)
Title: And Everything Was Possible
Pairings/Characters: Miranda genfic
Rating: G
Warnings: discussion of canonical infertility
Word count: 525
Summary: The Lazarus Project presents infinite possibilities, particular for its director.
"Six million credits, and for what? So Shepard can get pregnant? What a waste of money!"
Miranda can feel a dull ache behind her eyes. She doesn't want to be having this conversation right now. What she wants is to be safely in bed. She hasn't slept in twenty-six hours, and the deprivation is beginning to take its toll on her. "We were tasked with bringing Commander Shepard back exactly as she was. That includes restoring her fertility."
Wilson scowls. Miranda has never particularly liked him. He doesn't believe in even a twisted form of Cerberus' ideals. He's nothing more than a mercenary in a lab coat. Miranda tolerates him because he's a competent mercenary in a lab coat, and Project Lazarus is too important for her to quibble about the motivations of her staff. "What's she going to do?" he asks. "Stop the Reapers while changing diapers? Does she even want kids?"
Miranda shrugs. She's studied every scrap of information she can find about Shepard, but the commander's feelings on children are not in the dossier. "We aren't going to take that choice from her. We're going to do our jobs. We're going to give the Illusive Man everything he asked for on this project." Her voice is sharp and cold, and she can feel anger flowing through her like ice water. "Understood?"
"Understood." Miranda can hear him muttering "six million credits" as he leaves.
Miranda sits down at her desk. Project Lazarus will be the greatest medical achievement in human history if it works. She will have accomplished something previously reserved for mythical gods. She will have given humanity its best chance to fight the Reapers. It doesn't matter if she has to go over budget to save humanity.
Of course, some tasks are more personal than others. Ten years on, and the letter is still burned into her memory. "We can confirm that the progressive damage renders you unable to conceive a child... several options available should you wish to consider the adoption of a child." It's not even that she particularly wants a baby. Her job is dangerous. It would be unfair to bring a child into the world when she could so easily leave it an orphan again. But her infertility remains neither more nor less than an insult. Her father implanted her nervous system with eezo nodules when she was ten. The operation that made her the fourth strongest human biotic on record also irreversibly damaged her eggs. Another choice her father took from her. She'll be damned if she'll let it be taken from Shepard.
And who knows? Cerberus' priority-her priority-is resurrecting Shepard and stopping the Reapers. But the technology they pioneer here today will someday trickle down to humanity at large. Synthetic skin that can shrug off a bullet. Cybernetic eyes indistinguishable from the real thing. A nearly indestructible skeleton. Miranda smiles. Even artificial eggs. Perhaps... perhaps once the Reapers are defeated, she'll avail herself of these wonders new technologies. She won't be Fate's plaything. She can make her own choices again, even if that choice remains no.
That night Miranda dreams of the future.
Pairings/Characters: Miranda genfic
Rating: G
Warnings: discussion of canonical infertility
Word count: 525
Summary: The Lazarus Project presents infinite possibilities, particular for its director.
"Six million credits, and for what? So Shepard can get pregnant? What a waste of money!"
Miranda can feel a dull ache behind her eyes. She doesn't want to be having this conversation right now. What she wants is to be safely in bed. She hasn't slept in twenty-six hours, and the deprivation is beginning to take its toll on her. "We were tasked with bringing Commander Shepard back exactly as she was. That includes restoring her fertility."
Wilson scowls. Miranda has never particularly liked him. He doesn't believe in even a twisted form of Cerberus' ideals. He's nothing more than a mercenary in a lab coat. Miranda tolerates him because he's a competent mercenary in a lab coat, and Project Lazarus is too important for her to quibble about the motivations of her staff. "What's she going to do?" he asks. "Stop the Reapers while changing diapers? Does she even want kids?"
Miranda shrugs. She's studied every scrap of information she can find about Shepard, but the commander's feelings on children are not in the dossier. "We aren't going to take that choice from her. We're going to do our jobs. We're going to give the Illusive Man everything he asked for on this project." Her voice is sharp and cold, and she can feel anger flowing through her like ice water. "Understood?"
"Understood." Miranda can hear him muttering "six million credits" as he leaves.
Miranda sits down at her desk. Project Lazarus will be the greatest medical achievement in human history if it works. She will have accomplished something previously reserved for mythical gods. She will have given humanity its best chance to fight the Reapers. It doesn't matter if she has to go over budget to save humanity.
Of course, some tasks are more personal than others. Ten years on, and the letter is still burned into her memory. "We can confirm that the progressive damage renders you unable to conceive a child... several options available should you wish to consider the adoption of a child." It's not even that she particularly wants a baby. Her job is dangerous. It would be unfair to bring a child into the world when she could so easily leave it an orphan again. But her infertility remains neither more nor less than an insult. Her father implanted her nervous system with eezo nodules when she was ten. The operation that made her the fourth strongest human biotic on record also irreversibly damaged her eggs. Another choice her father took from her. She'll be damned if she'll let it be taken from Shepard.
And who knows? Cerberus' priority-her priority-is resurrecting Shepard and stopping the Reapers. But the technology they pioneer here today will someday trickle down to humanity at large. Synthetic skin that can shrug off a bullet. Cybernetic eyes indistinguishable from the real thing. A nearly indestructible skeleton. Miranda smiles. Even artificial eggs. Perhaps... perhaps once the Reapers are defeated, she'll avail herself of these wonders new technologies. She won't be Fate's plaything. She can make her own choices again, even if that choice remains no.
That night Miranda dreams of the future.