#clone shepard

And clone Shepard

Shepard stood only a few feet away from her double, the air between them thick with tension. Both women held their weapons steady, muzzles trained directly on the other’s chest. Their stances were almost identical, feet planted, shoulders squared, fingers hovering just close enough to the trigger to fire at a moment’s notice. It was like staring into a mirror that reflected not just her face, but her instincts, her training, and every battle she had ever fought.

The only real difference between them was the expression in their eyes.

Shepard’s gaze was sharp and calculating, trying to read every tiny movement her opponent made.

The other woman’s eyes, however, burned with something far less controlled. Anger, bitterness, and a resentment that had clearly been festering for a long time.

Shepard tilted her head slightly, her voice calm despite the surreal situation. “Let me guess,” she said dryly. “Cerberus made you?”

The clone’s lips curled into a thin smirk as she gave a small nod. “Bingo,” she replied flatly.

Shepard let out a quiet breath through her nose, as if the answer had only confirmed what she already suspected. “So what?” Shepard continued, tightening her grip on the weapon. “They built you to replace me?”

The clone’s smirk faded as she slowly shook her head. “No,” she said. “Not exactly.”

Her expression darkened, and there was an edge of anger in her voice now.

“They made me in case you needed spare parts,” she continued bitterly. “Heart transplant. Kidney failure. Liver damage. Whatever broke first. A living medical kit with your face.”

Shepard’s eyes narrowed, the words clearly unsettling.

“But then…” the clone added, her tone sharpening, “They realized I could be useful for something else.”

Shepard shifted slightly, confusion creeping into her expression. “What do you mean?”

The clone’s gaze hardened as she stared directly at her original. “I was grown to be carved up,” she said coldly. “But once I was fully developed, Cerberus decided wasting me on spare organs would be… Inefficient.”

She lowered her weapon slightly, not enough to signal surrender, but enough to show she was more interested in talking now.

“So instead,” she continued, “they brought me into another one of their brilliant little projects.”

Shepard frowned.

“A project that was supposed to change the human race forever.”

For a moment Shepard just stared at her, trying to process what she was hearing. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Now you’ve lost me.”

The clone’s eyes narrowed again, and this time there was something almost predatory in the way she looked at Shepard. “The project was called Bloodline,” she said. She paused deliberately before finishing. “And it involved your blonde friend… Arc.”

“Jaune said Cerberus managed to get their hands on him for a while,” Shepard replied, keeping her weapon trained on the woman who wore her face. “But he didn’t know exactly what they did to him. By the time he got away, the damage was already done.”

Shepard shrugged faintly, though her eyes never left the clone.

“Our best guess was that they pulled whatever DNA samples they could from him and used them somehow when they rebuilt me,” she continued. “Part of the Lazarus Project or something related to it.”

For a moment, the clone just stared at her.

Then she started to laugh. It wasn’t a friendly laugh; it was low, bitter, and almost mocking.

“Hate to break it to you,” the clone said once she caught her breath, “But they didn’t have nearly enough DNA from him to make a clone like me.”

Her lips curled into a thin smile.

“But they did have enough to make the next best thing.”

Shepard frowned, confusion flashing across her face. “What are you-?”

“Shepard!”

Both women turned at the sudden shout.

From the far end of the corridor, two figures were sprinting toward them, armor clanking and weapons already raised.

Wrex barreled forward like a charging tank, his shotgun gripped tightly in his massive hands. Beside him, Tali ran just as fast, her shotgun already aimed down the hall.

“Shepard!”

The moment of distraction was all the clone needed.

Before Shepard could react, the clone slammed her hand against Shepard’s pistol, knocking it from her grip. The weapon clattered loudly across the floor as the clone lunged forward, grabbing Shepard from behind.

An arm locked tightly around Shepard’s throat while the clone’s pistol snapped up against the side of Shepard’s head.

“Don’t come any closer!” the clone shouted, her voice sharp with desperation.

Wrex and Tali skidded to a halt several meters away. Both still had their weapons raised, aiming directly at the clone.

The tension in the room skyrocketed instantly.

Wrex’s eyes narrowed as he sized up the situation, his shotgun steady in his hands. “I’d put that gun down if I were you,” the krogan rumbled, his deep voice carrying a clear warning.

Beside him, Tali’s grip tightened on her own shotgun. “Let Shepard go,” she demanded, her voice tense beneath her helmet.

The clone’s arm tightened slightly around Shepard’s neck as she glanced between the two of them, clearly calculating her odds. “Not gonna happen,” the clone said immediately. “Not when I know you’ll just shoot me the second I lower it.”

Her voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge of mistrust beneath it.

Slowly, the clone leaned closer, bringing her mouth near Shepard’s ear so only she could hear clearly.

“Tell them to put their guns down,” she whispered. “I’m not here to kill you… or them.”

Her breath brushed Shepard’s ear as her voice hardened.

“But I will if they don’t lower their weapons.”

Shepard clenched her jaw slightly, clearly unhappy with the situation, but she understood the reality of it. One wrong move and things could spiral out of control fast.

She took a slow breath before raising her voice.

“Weapons down.”

Tali stiffened immediately. “Shepard-!” she protested.

“It’s alright,” Shepard said firmly, though the position she was in made the reassurance somewhat questionable. “Just lower your guns.”

For a brief moment neither of them moved.

Wrex and Tali exchanged a quick glance, an entire silent conversation passing between them in that single look.

Neither of them liked it, not one bit, but Shepard was the one giving the order.

Slowly, reluctantly, Wrex lowered his shotgun, though the krogan’s posture remained tense and ready to react. Tali followed a second later, lowering her shotgun while still keeping her helmeted gaze locked on the clone.

The clone watched them carefully the entire time. Then, slowly, a satisfied smile spread across her face. “Good, good. Now, I’m going to let Shepard go.” Her grip on Shepard loosened slightly, though the pistol was still there.

Wrex’s eyes narrowed.

“But before I leave,” the clone added, her tone shifting into something almost amused, “I think you deserve to know a little secret.”

Tali and Wrex both watched closely as the clone leaned in once more, bringing her mouth close to Shepard’s ear.

For a moment, no one could hear what she said, as it was just a quiet whisper.

Then Shepard’s entire expression changed. Her eyes widened, shock flashed across her face.

Before anyone could react, the clone suddenly shoved Shepard forward. The commander stumbled several steps before Wrex quickly stepped in, catching her by the shoulders and steadying her before she could hit the ground.

At the same time, the clone spun and bolted down the corridor.

Tali had snapped her shotgun back up and fired.

A burst of energy shots streaked down the hall toward the fleeing figure, but the clone was fast. She ducked behind a corner, the shots striking the wall instead.

“Tali! Don’t!” Shepard cried urgently.

Tali lowered the weapon and turned back toward Shepard. “Shepard?” she asked, confusion clear in her voice.

Wrex still had a steady hand on Shepard’s shoulder, making sure she was balanced after being shoved forward. The krogan’s eyes flicked toward the hallway where the clone had escaped, then back to Shepard.

Shepard straightened herself, brushing off Wrex’s arm as she regained her footing. “Let her go,” Shepard said quietly.

Tali blinked in surprise. “What?”

“She’s not after us,” Shepard continued.

Wrex frowned heavily, his ridged brow lowering. “And how exactly do you figure that?” the krogan asked skeptically as Shepard fully stood up.

“She told me so,” Shepard replied. Her tone was calm, but distant.

Tali and Wrex exchanged another look. Neither of them looked convinced.

“She also just took you hostage,” Wrex pointed out bluntly.

Shepard didn’t respond right away.

Instead, her eyes drifted back toward the corridor where her clone had vanished. Her gaze hardened slightly as the memory replayed in her mind.

The clone leaning close.

The whisper in her ear.

Those words.

Words that had hit her harder than any bullet ever could.

Her fingers slowly curled into a fist at her side.

“She wasn’t lying,” Shepard murmured under her breath.

Tali tilted her head slightly. “What did she say to you?” she asked.

For a moment, Shepard didn’t answer. Her mind was still reeling, trying to process something that should have been impossible.

Then she finally spoke, and her voice was quiet. Heavy.

Brooks tried to be funny but the entire DLC is just... sad when it comes to her and the clone. And I know I'm not the only one who appreciates Brooks and the clone as characters. Replaying the Citadel DLC is showing quite clearly the tragedy of the road not taken.

The clone is the lonely figure who doesn't have what Shepard has and what makes them special: a team, a "we", a "us". No "we face our enemy together".

And Brooks who is not really Brooks plays a role with Shepard and with the clone. She watched from the sidelines as she put together dossiers for Shepard: everyone joined him, but not her. Never her. When she does join him, she plays a role. Not even the best version of herself, as she tries to be as clumsy and awkward as she can be as Staff Analyst Maya Brooks. Still. She gets respected, accepted and her advice is taken into account by Shepard and the Normandy crew. I think it did something to Brooks, and she will realize what exactly months or years later. But that acceptance is for Maya Brooks. It's not really for the person inside, the real one, lurking in the shadows, who I think, is longing, like the clone, to be loved.

Both Brooks and the clone have been rejected by the Illusive Man, probably one of the worst father figures in Mass Effect. Brooks is also compared to Miranda, as the clone puts it "mine has more bite". But not really when it comes to loyalty as we know. The two father figures for Shepard are David Anderson, who has a true love for Shepard, and Hackett, who is mentioned twice showing support - defending Shepard a Spectre candidate as we've seen in the archives and as someone who would understand immediately that the clone is not Shepard. Meaning the people we love understand our essence, and can't be fooled.

Unlike Shepard, the clone and Brooks are alone, playing roles, with fractured identities, and so much of the DLC is about their suffering: the clone especially. Brooks believes the clone would not have let them live, and the clone finds out that they're not going to be saved by Brooks. The look as she walks away is not one of triumph. That's sadness. And I think it's because she believes, among many things, that her and the clone are one and the same and therefore, not worthy of love and safety.

The moment the clone realizes Brooks will not save them makes me want to cry:

It is normal to want to be a part of a "we" and to despair when you realize you are alone in this world. The tragedy is that they could have been a "we", Brooks and the clone, but they didn't believe in each other enough. The person who believes in them the most is a Paragon Shepard, pleading for Brooks' life, telling the clone to live. Someone they both must see as an enemy, someone they tried to hurt badly, but someone they desperately wish to be friends with.

TW: dead animal/nightmarish imagery (dnr if you are squeamish!)

She was asleep for a long time. Or least it felt that way. And while she was asleep, she dreamt there was something caught in her throat. Her throat felt full, so that when she swallowed, she swallowed around a stubborn lump—firm but yielding, like a rubber ball. She could almost feel the needles of sulfur stabbing at her sinuses, and she cleared her throat to rid herself of the phantom stench. Then she coughed. That was when it happened: a small, white bird slipped out of her mouth, limp and glazed with the shiny slickness of her own saliva. Its wings—those hinged, aerodynamic blades—were rigid against its body, and its eyes were shut. The bird was dead. Had it flown in? How had it escaped her notice?  Her throat itched, and she pulled loose feathers from her mouth in clumsy gobs, fistful after fistful—a cheap magician's trick, conjured by the mind of a senseless dreamer. The first thing she remembers about waking up is the light. An amber haze. It crept across the dull, metal ceiling, a simulacrum of something familiar. She had no word for 'sun'. But she knew the sun; it was the thing that came up every morning and went down every night, and warmed the world until life jittered into existence. 'I am growing', she thought in her own, soupy way. 'The journeywork of the stars is within me.'  She wanted nothing more than to shut her eyes and to bask in that everyday miracle. The second thing she remembers is the smell. A mint-like scent, like strong medigel—smothering and antiseptic. It filled her nose until her eyelids flicked fully open. A woman with long, raven hair smiled down at her, and the woman draped a delicate hand across hers. Her perfectly aligned teeth, like rows of marble headstones, radiated with the yellow glow of the room. A sublime, jaundiced angel. “Hello, Shepard,” she said with a gentle hum. “It's good to finally meet you. My name is Maya, and I'm here to help you. Don't be afraid.”

Shepard tucked back a smile with confidences as she looked down her scope.

Within seconds, several holes were drilled between the eyes of four targets: an asari, a krogan, a quarian, and a turian.

When we meet clone-shep they’re only six months old. They look like an adult, talk like an adult, they have the faculties of an adult, the thought processes of an adult, but no memories of their own, no life experience to teach them morals. They have the life experience of an infant.

From the moment they wake up they’re told they were just a bag of organs for the person you’re a copy of. They have nothing, own nothing, not even their face is theirs. But Brookes is whispering in their ear, feeding this new naive mind hatred and anger and jealousy. And Clone-Shep follows it, because like an infant they’ll follow and trust the first guiding voice they hear. No one has Clone-Shep’s back except Brookes, Brookes only wants to help them be stronger, Brookes knows what best, Brookes is giving them a purpose. If they follow Brookes they can be happy.

Clone-Shep truly doesn’t know any better. That’s not me making excuses or infantilize them, they truly don’t know, without memories they can’t know.

Brooks: "Afraid I'll come back for revenge? Is the great Commander Shepard pleading for his/her life?"