The Perfect Trap

Shepard, under an assumed name and in disguise, began an elaborate scheme. She boarded a ship at Omega, flew to Illium, then took an obtuse route that went through five other inhabited systems before she landed on Horizon. Once she was there, she booked a room for the night at a nearby hostel, got dressed in her combat gear, and snuck out before morning. She left a credit chit on the bed, enough to pay the price of the room and to tip the staff.

After that, it was a simple matter of reaching the facility, this so-called Solheim. The complex was big, real big, searching it wouldn't be easy and it was apparently under heavy guard. She didn't know what to expect, so she was surprised when she reached the front door and found it to be unguarded and unlocked.

A trap. Had to be. There's no way Henry Lawson was this stupid. Liara had even said the place was heavily guarded. They also had to know there was no way she'd ever fall for this, meaning they may very well be counting on her seeking an alternate route and ambushing her wherever that was. Trap here, trap elsewhere, go in, don't, the simple binaries of her choices here.

She took a deep breath, then stepped inside. The entry foyer was dark, lit only by faint emergency lights on the ceiling. Shepard immediately noticed the marble busts of Miranda against the walls and was sufficiently creeped out as they leered at her from the shadows.

"Okay... Whoever's in charge around here really needs a hobby," Shepard muttered to herself.

"I have one thank you very much," said a voice. Shepard turned and faced the end of the room, where she saw Oriana Lawson was standing in a jumpsuit not dissimilar to her sister's.

"What are you doing here?" Shepard asked, pointing her gun at her.

"I own this place, or did you not hear the news about my father's passing?" Oriana asked. "I don't take kindly to trespassers. Even if they are the great Commander Shepard. Care to explain why you're sneaking around?"

"Your sister's missing, or did you not hear the news?" Shepard retorted, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. Oriana only raised an eyebrow as if to say 'Oh?'. Shepard continued, "she was last seen here."

"Was she? Well that's an easy mistake to make."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Well believe Shepard," she snapped her fingers and the door behind her opened. Miranda Lawson then walked out, in her usual tight-fitted jumpsuit, staring blankly forward. Shepard opened her mouth to say something, but trailed off as another Miranda Lawson appeared on the other side of Oriana, followed by two more in black jumpsuits carrying rifles, who took up position on the far side of either clone. "See? Easy mistake to make."

...

They confiscated her weapons and had her strip naked for the tour. It was humiliating, but she had ****. She'd have to play along if she hoped to get herself and the real Miranda out of this mess. Mercifully, Solheim was insulated and warm. Oriana was courteous as she demonstrated the various aspects of the facility to her captive. The cloning facilities, the programming rooms, the specialized roles for the clones. However, the tour didn't stop there as it had before.

"You'll be the first outsider to see this part of the facility. You should feel honored," Oriana said.

She felt something all right, but it sure as shit wasn't honor. They walked down the hallway to a viewing window. Beyond it was a large room, filled with dozens of pods, within each of which was a sleeping Miranda. Other Mirandas in scientist uniforms monitored the pods, which hummed gently as the Mirandas slept. Another room of the same nature was visible on the other side of the hall.

"Our medical bay. Given the clones do not require comfort in order to perform to maximum efficiency, it also doubles as the general quarters. These pods heal and rejuvenate the clones, ensuring they never lose vitality," Oriana explained. "In addition to reinforcing their programming, it allows us to improve their bodies too. We can change them however we wish in a matter of hours.."

"Wasn't Miranda supposed to have the perfect body?" Shepard asked, more as a subtle jab than a serious assertion. "And isn't there an old saying about trying to improve on perfection?" Oriana grunted bemused, and gestured for Shepard to follow. Given she still had two guards behind her pointing guns at her back, she had little choice in the matter.

"Miranda is the perfect ****," she said, "as such she can be specialized to fit any role that is required of her. Be it soldier, scientist... or slut." She grinned, gesturing to the next observing window. "Care to take a look at our recreational area?"

"Excuse me?" Shepard followed her, and what she saw shocked her. It was like a gym for nymphomaniacs, and far as Shepard could see, Mirandas were fucking each other in every way imaginable. In addition to using their bodies, there were dildos, butt plugs, ball gags, lots of leather... Yet there was no passion, no sense of pleasure. It was all purely mechanical, purely utilitarian.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Oriana asked.

"The loveless automatic orgy? Yeah. Real pretty," Shepard grumbled. "You're one fucked up bitch, Oriana."

"You wound me," Oriana replied. "I need to make sure they know how to pleasure those who will make use of their services."

"What?"

"Well as much as I'd love to just sit around and play with my mindless dolls all day long, it's not cheap to run a facility like this. As such, I'll be renting them out to the highest bidder. With the aid of some friends in high places, it will be easy to sell their services far and wide. Assistants, assassins, prostitutes, trophy wives... If they want it, they'll have it."

"Yeah. I'm sure no one will notice the endless copies of the same woman running around."

"On the contrary, I think you'll find that I'm quite thorough in covering my tracks, for instance..." She looked up at the Mirandas behind Shepard. "M42. M161. Lockdown."

Shepard turned and watched as the black jumpsuits they were wearing seemed to shimmer, then crawl up their faces. Their hair simply fell out and dissolved as their face was encased in a shiny, featureless black shell. Suddenly the jumpsuits stiffened and hardened. Shepard couldn't help but notice that it gave them a noticeable camel-toe, and their nipples were as hard as diamonds.

"Cute," Shepard said.

"That substance is nearly impenetrable, and you'd never be able to tell one from the other. As for the soon-to-be sex slaves, they'll be tailored to fit every client's needs and wants. No two will be entirely alike, but they will all be perfect."

"Uh-huh," Shepard rolled her eyes as they walked down the hall to a waiting door. "Let's say I buy that bullshit. Doesn't matter. When my team doesn't hear from me in a few days, they're going to come knocking, and then your fun will be over for good."

"And what makes you think they won't hear from you?" Oriana asked, smiling as she input some numbers on a keypad. Shepard suddenly stopped. A chill ran across her naked form, and she was suddenly very unsure of herself. "I fully intend to send you back to them in one piece, Commander, and you'll take Miranda with you. You'll go back to your ship, you'll tell the crew it was all one big misunderstanding, that nothing suspicious was going. Miranda was merely here helping me sort out my father's affairs and to plan out the next phase for his corporate empire: a humanitarian endeavor to help create a perfect galaxy."

Shepard was almost at a loss for words as Oriana opened the door to the next room. Shepard was too flustered to even notice what was in it.

"Why would I ever do that?" Shepard asked. "What kind of person do you think I am?"

"You're not a person. You're property. You were Miranda's property. Now you're mine."

Before she could respond, she suddenly jolted as a surge of electricity ran through her spine. She screamed only for a moment before collapsing to the ground. The last thing she saw before blacking out was the naked form of the original Miranda Lawson standing over her with blank uncomprehending eyes.

In that moment, she realized there was no saving Miranda, and now there would be no saving her.