Ship of Theseus (M.E. fiction)
Title: Ship of Theseus
Pairing: None
Fandom: Mass Effect 2
Summery: If something has had all its components parts replaced, is it still the same object?
The hum of the ship and the soft, tiered chatter of the skeleton crew was the only sound as Erin made her way along the walkway towards the back observation deck. They had just finished with Mordin's mission and now everyone was resting. They needed it. Of course Garrus, Tali, hell Jack would even say she needed the same. But she couldn't sleep. So she was walking about, the quiet a comforting foil to the chaos that were her thoughts. Ever since she'd woken in the Cerberus facility voices, thoughts, shouts had been a white noise in her brain. And the hum seemed to cancel it out.
She also couldn't help but feel a sort of affinity for the old girl. They had both been destroyed, then for lack of a better term salvaged and rebuilt by Cerberus. New and improved. So new that she often didn't even feel like herself anymore. No matter how much the Illusive Man insisted Shepard didn't feel like she did before she died. How could she? She had new ribs, a new heart, a new spine; hell she'd become more machine then woman. How could she be the same person? She just didn't feel like it. And now she often searched for the hum of the ship's engines because the irrational fear that if she one day felt the hum stop, her own heart would do the same was one she often dealt with.
She walked into the observation deck and sat down on the padded seat, letting out a bone weary sigh as she did. Her body ached, bruises still covering her torso. She rested a hand just below her breast where a batarian thug had clipped her. The rebuild had given her an amped up healing system, but cracked ribs still took a bit.
Her eyes moved back out to the stars and focused on the ship's hum, slipping into an almost meditative state, though every once and awhile a snippet of conversation or thought would emerge, before disappearing into the fog again. She didn't even hear the door swish open nor the footfalls that signaled someone sitting close by. It wasn't until she felt the cushion dip down did she look over to find Garrus sitting, staring out at the stars.
“You looked like you were in deep thought. What were you thinking about?”
“Nothing...my death...missions...the Reapers...” Erin replied, the snippets coming back just a tad louder.
“That sounds like a whole lot of something. You should be resting.”
“I could say the same for you. Or are you up calibrating something?” Erin teased, earning a scoff from her friend.
“Hey I'll have you know those guns won't take care of themselves. They need constant love and attention.”
“And you do so well with giving long, hard things on this ship such gentle love and attention don't you?” The teasing was familiar and helped to continue to push back her morose thoughts. Thankfully this hadn't changed from before.
“Well since someone has the attention of all the, shall we say, softer things on the Normandy then I have to amuse myself somehow.”
Erin burst out laughing at the description of the female portion of the crew. “I do not. And you better not let Jack or Miranda here you call them that, they'll kick your ass all the way back to Palavan.”
Garrus made a show of looking over his shoulder, as if expecting either master biotic to jump from the shadows. “Oh I have no doubt about that. And yes you do. You always drew the attention of anyone, even during our first run. You really haven't changed.”
Erin sobered at this, her thoughts returning to what they were. “I feel like I have.”
Garrus looked over at his Commander, his mandibals clicking with a frown. “You don't laugh as much as you did...nor smile, expect maybe when Miranda is around,” This earned him a glare and flush. “But you still have the same heart, the same drive. You still care and risk your life. You still have the sharp tongue and dry sarcasm as before. Your still the same Shepard that I flew into the Omega 4 Relay with. That hasn't changed.”
Erin leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she listened to Garrus talk.
“Sure Cerberus upgraded your body, heightened your senses. But you're still the same Shepard that faced down Soverign and Saren and the Rachni queen and the hundreds of other bad guys that we did. You're still the same Shepard that gave that young girl from Mindor a chance at life, that saved Feros from being enslaved. You did that. Not all the new gears and gadgets that Cerberus gave you. You're still the same Shepard.”
Tears had started to trickle down her cheeks about halfway through his speech and Erin hung her head to mask them. “And you're still a softie that talks too much,” She replied.
Garrus chuckled. “Well I don't have my ruggedly good looks to fall back on anymore. Gotta try something else to reel the ladies in.” He stood and looked down at her. “I know you've been up for three days now. Go to bed.” Just then the door slid open again and Miranda paused in the doorway, looking at the two. “And look, someone to tuck you in.” Erin laughed again while Miranda only gained an irritated expression. “Good night Shepard.”
“Night Garrus.” The turian began to walk out. “And Garrus? Thanks.” Garrus nodded and gave a small wave before disappearing. Miranda came to sit next to her, soft blue eyes searching Shepard's face.
“Are you all right? I woke up, but you weren't there.” Miranda reached out, brushing a hand along her lover's jaw. Erin leaned into the touch, eyes closed as she soaked in her lover's touch, Garrus's words mulling in her brain. Once more her mind went to the fact that this woman, whose touch she now craved, was instrumental in placing these thoughts in her head, placing the implants, new organs into her body. She drew Miranda close, pressing her cheek into her lover's. As much as Miranda's past actions caused confusion in her thoughts having the woman in her arms was as physical a grounding as the thrum of the ship.
“I'm fine,” she whispered. She cupped Miranda's cheek, running a thumb over a high cheekbone, her eyes gazing over her lover's face. This was the woman that had brought her back to life, had implanted her and changed her. In more ways then one. Her lips curled into a smile as she drew her in for a kiss. The warmth that spread from her lips outward was welcoming and reassuring. “Let's go to bed.” They stood and walked out, making their way towards the elevator. While one hand was rested on the small of Miranda's back, Shepard found the other hand trailing over the bulkhead. She felt the small vibrations of the ship, the Normandy's pulse.
They may have had new parts. But they were still the same.
And she smiled.
Pairing: None
Fandom: Mass Effect 2
Summery: If something has had all its components parts replaced, is it still the same object?
The hum of the ship and the soft, tiered chatter of the skeleton crew was the only sound as Erin made her way along the walkway towards the back observation deck. They had just finished with Mordin's mission and now everyone was resting. They needed it. Of course Garrus, Tali, hell Jack would even say she needed the same. But she couldn't sleep. So she was walking about, the quiet a comforting foil to the chaos that were her thoughts. Ever since she'd woken in the Cerberus facility voices, thoughts, shouts had been a white noise in her brain. And the hum seemed to cancel it out.
She also couldn't help but feel a sort of affinity for the old girl. They had both been destroyed, then for lack of a better term salvaged and rebuilt by Cerberus. New and improved. So new that she often didn't even feel like herself anymore. No matter how much the Illusive Man insisted Shepard didn't feel like she did before she died. How could she? She had new ribs, a new heart, a new spine; hell she'd become more machine then woman. How could she be the same person? She just didn't feel like it. And now she often searched for the hum of the ship's engines because the irrational fear that if she one day felt the hum stop, her own heart would do the same was one she often dealt with.
She walked into the observation deck and sat down on the padded seat, letting out a bone weary sigh as she did. Her body ached, bruises still covering her torso. She rested a hand just below her breast where a batarian thug had clipped her. The rebuild had given her an amped up healing system, but cracked ribs still took a bit.
Her eyes moved back out to the stars and focused on the ship's hum, slipping into an almost meditative state, though every once and awhile a snippet of conversation or thought would emerge, before disappearing into the fog again. She didn't even hear the door swish open nor the footfalls that signaled someone sitting close by. It wasn't until she felt the cushion dip down did she look over to find Garrus sitting, staring out at the stars.
“You looked like you were in deep thought. What were you thinking about?”
“Nothing...my death...missions...the Reapers...” Erin replied, the snippets coming back just a tad louder.
“That sounds like a whole lot of something. You should be resting.”
“I could say the same for you. Or are you up calibrating something?” Erin teased, earning a scoff from her friend.
“Hey I'll have you know those guns won't take care of themselves. They need constant love and attention.”
“And you do so well with giving long, hard things on this ship such gentle love and attention don't you?” The teasing was familiar and helped to continue to push back her morose thoughts. Thankfully this hadn't changed from before.
“Well since someone has the attention of all the, shall we say, softer things on the Normandy then I have to amuse myself somehow.”
Erin burst out laughing at the description of the female portion of the crew. “I do not. And you better not let Jack or Miranda here you call them that, they'll kick your ass all the way back to Palavan.”
Garrus made a show of looking over his shoulder, as if expecting either master biotic to jump from the shadows. “Oh I have no doubt about that. And yes you do. You always drew the attention of anyone, even during our first run. You really haven't changed.”
Erin sobered at this, her thoughts returning to what they were. “I feel like I have.”
Garrus looked over at his Commander, his mandibals clicking with a frown. “You don't laugh as much as you did...nor smile, expect maybe when Miranda is around,” This earned him a glare and flush. “But you still have the same heart, the same drive. You still care and risk your life. You still have the sharp tongue and dry sarcasm as before. Your still the same Shepard that I flew into the Omega 4 Relay with. That hasn't changed.”
Erin leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she listened to Garrus talk.
“Sure Cerberus upgraded your body, heightened your senses. But you're still the same Shepard that faced down Soverign and Saren and the Rachni queen and the hundreds of other bad guys that we did. You're still the same Shepard that gave that young girl from Mindor a chance at life, that saved Feros from being enslaved. You did that. Not all the new gears and gadgets that Cerberus gave you. You're still the same Shepard.”
Tears had started to trickle down her cheeks about halfway through his speech and Erin hung her head to mask them. “And you're still a softie that talks too much,” She replied.
Garrus chuckled. “Well I don't have my ruggedly good looks to fall back on anymore. Gotta try something else to reel the ladies in.” He stood and looked down at her. “I know you've been up for three days now. Go to bed.” Just then the door slid open again and Miranda paused in the doorway, looking at the two. “And look, someone to tuck you in.” Erin laughed again while Miranda only gained an irritated expression. “Good night Shepard.”
“Night Garrus.” The turian began to walk out. “And Garrus? Thanks.” Garrus nodded and gave a small wave before disappearing. Miranda came to sit next to her, soft blue eyes searching Shepard's face.
“Are you all right? I woke up, but you weren't there.” Miranda reached out, brushing a hand along her lover's jaw. Erin leaned into the touch, eyes closed as she soaked in her lover's touch, Garrus's words mulling in her brain. Once more her mind went to the fact that this woman, whose touch she now craved, was instrumental in placing these thoughts in her head, placing the implants, new organs into her body. She drew Miranda close, pressing her cheek into her lover's. As much as Miranda's past actions caused confusion in her thoughts having the woman in her arms was as physical a grounding as the thrum of the ship.
“I'm fine,” she whispered. She cupped Miranda's cheek, running a thumb over a high cheekbone, her eyes gazing over her lover's face. This was the woman that had brought her back to life, had implanted her and changed her. In more ways then one. Her lips curled into a smile as she drew her in for a kiss. The warmth that spread from her lips outward was welcoming and reassuring. “Let's go to bed.” They stood and walked out, making their way towards the elevator. While one hand was rested on the small of Miranda's back, Shepard found the other hand trailing over the bulkhead. She felt the small vibrations of the ship, the Normandy's pulse.
They may have had new parts. But they were still the same.
And she smiled.