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The Collector ship shrank to a pinprick in the sky, and Shepard hoped Joker had gotten Normandy clear before it reached space. The colony of Horizon -what was left of it- was saved, even if Shepard had a hard time believing they’d done much more than irritate Harbinger.
“Wonderful,” Miranda muttered, watching the ship disappear into the clouds. “We should get moving. I’ve no interest in finding out if the Alliance has started becoming competent in checking up on colonies that go dark.”
“Well, well. Commander Shepard.” A voice drew their attention to one of the prefab buildings, and Shepard startled. He turned to see Ashley emerging from around a corner, her white and pink armor tarnished but otherwise no worse for wear.
“Maybe they’re more competent than I thought,” Miranda scowled, resting her hand on the butt of her pistol. “Careful, commander.”
Ashley ignored the other woman. “You’re alive. When I heard the rumors I hoped…why didn’t you contact me?”
The hurt in her eyes cut into Shepard. “I’m sorry. I meant to…”
“Oh, stop mewling,” Miranda snapped, turning to Ashley. “He didn’t write you any love letters because we’ve been too busy trying to stop the Collectors. You’ve heard of them?”
Ashley’s expression darkened, taking in Miranda’s skin-tight outfit. “Cerberus. So that rumor was right too.”
“Yes, Cerberus. The only group that cares enough to investigate the colony disappearances.”
“Miranda, enough.” Shepard turned to Ashley, arms open pleadingly. “Cerberus brought me back to life. And they brought me back specifically to do something about the Collectors. They’re on the level here.”
“You could have come back instead of joining up with terrorists. The Alliance is conducting its own investigations.”
“Of course!” Miranda snapped. “Why they sent you and…your rifle? Were your orders to save the colony, or just to die prettily?”
“Terrorists,” Ashley reiterated, stepping up to Shepard. Her voice dropped. “Skipper, these are the same people who killed Admiral Kahoku and his men. Who tried to weaponize the Thorian drones and the husks and the Rachni. These are not good people.
“What’s the Alliance doing, Ash? Honestly?” Shepard took her hand, awkward through both sets of armored gloves.
Ashley dropped her eyes. “That’s classified.”
“You’re right,” Miranda broke in. “Classified, but Cerberus still has access. Do you know what the plan is? All the Terminus colonies are considered acceptable losses. They always have been! The Alliance is willing to give up on the tens of thousands of humans living out here in order to have a buffer between the core worlds and the dark things out there.” She shook her head. “Cerberus doesn’t consider that acceptable.”
“We came across so many of your science experiments while we were hunting for Saren…” Ashley started.
“The galaxy is a far more dangerous place than the Alliance would ever acknowledge. We know what’s coming, and we’re preparing.” Miranda turned to Ashley. “Do you honestly believe the Council races will stand by humanity when the Reapers come? Or even when the Batarians come?” Ashley didn’t have a retort for that, and Shepard could see a flicker of doubt in her expression. “It is a nasty, brutal galaxy and no one is going to protect us but us.”
“Come with us,” Shepard said. “We’ve got a showdown with the Collectors coming. I could use you.”
“No.” Ashley shook her head. “Maybe you’re right about the Council. But your way is bullshit. I can’t sign on to that.” With that she turned her back, leaving Shepard alone with Miranda in the colony they’d saved.
* * *
Miranda knew Shepard was too much of a professional to have it out with her where the crew could hear. Instead she led the way from the flier in violent silence, ushering him into the lift and directing it to deck three.
He started as soon as her office doors closed. “I don’t know where you think you get off, but you do not-!”
“She’s weak, Shepard,” Miranda snapped back, not giving an inch. “As blissfully ignorant as the rest of the Alliance.”
“She and I have been through more than you know, Miranda. Ashley has loyalty; I wouldn’t expect you to understand that.”
His words stung. “Your loyal girlfriend just dumped you, Shepard. I guess love really didn’t work out for you.” Shepard snarled and turned away, the muscles in his neck working; Miranda didn’t let him escape, sidling up behind him and lowering her voice. “Don’t worry. Someday you’ll find someone who actually respects you. Maybe you can even convince her to call you skipper.” Shepard stilled, and turned slowly to face her. Miranda allowed herself a small smile at the fury seething in his eyes. “In fact, maybe she’ll put up with your incessa-”
He was on her in an instant, fingers wrapping tight around Miranda’s throat and in her hair. Shepard’s snarl filled her vision as he squeezed tight, cutting off her air.
Miranda’s fist arced around, smashing into Shepard’s cheek. He was formidable, she knew; the highest quality skin weaves and retroviral augmentations Cerberus could afford, but her genetic enhancements granted her astonishing strength. Shepard staggered back, surprise flashing across his expression, and Miranda tore open the fasteners of her tunic. “Finally!” she hissed, peeling the fabric clear of her shoulders.
He was looking at her warily, lust and confusion warring on his features and Miranda knew which was winning. “What’s your game?” Her only response was a blow to the other side of his face.
“My game? I’m sick of your pathetic whining. You’ve got some damn fool idea that you can stop the Collectors or the fucking Reapers by being nice to them. My game is that I’m trying to see if you’ve actually got a forceful bone in your body.” She cupped her breasts, offering her ample cleavage to him. “You want me? Don’t lie.”
“You know I do.”
“Then goddamn take me.”
He came at her just as quickly but this time she was prepared, shifting his momentum and tossing him hard against her office couch. Blue energy flared over his skin as Miranda’s biotics caught him, lifting him up to the ceiling and abruptly slamming him back down. With deft motions she pulled down his pants, freeing his hard cock. “Not how it was with Ashley, is it?” she asked as she stripped out of the ruined remains of her uniform, leaving only the choker on. “Not begging her to let you do what you want?” Shepard watched leering as she crouched over him, letting the head of his cock slide against her nether lips. “Well?”
“Fuck me,” he ordered.
Miranda let her expression fall. “You lazy little thing,” she muttered, rising off of him. “Get out. I don’t fuck losers.” She turned her back to him, stepping into her bedroom.
She felt him before she heard him move; a blow to the back of her knees drove her down and a hand on the back of her neck shoved her torso down across the bed. Shepard was silent and relentless as he gathered her wrists up painfully behind her back; she only heard him spit and felt the slick head of his cock push up against her ass. “You wouldn’t dare!” she cried with mock incredulity. His only response was to push into her, slowly, inexorably. Miranda writhed under him, delighting at the intrusion. Shepard was moving deliberately over her, releasing her hands to leaning tight against her back. She breathed deep as he found a tempo he liked, rocking hard against her and grunting hard with each thrust. Miranda dared a look over her shoulder; Shepard was quivering, eyes tightly closed, and she realized he was already staving off an orgasm.
“Miranda,” he uttered. “Fuck me.”
She grinned outright. “Go to hell.”
With fierce purposefulness he slipped his fingers between her neck and her choker, taking a firm hold. He twined the fingers of his other hand in the strands of her hair and pulled with both hands, pulling her ass deeply around his cock. “That’s better.” He kept himself stock still, forcing her to do the work of pleasuring him, and Miranda felt a thrill at the realization that he was masturbating with her body. He grunted again, louder and with intent, forcing her back and forth faster and faster until he surged against her with a roar, spasming hard inside her.
He pulled out of her wordlessly, and Miranda sagged against the bed. “Miranda,” he said. She expelled a breath and shifted to face him, sprawling back against the foot of the bed. He stood before her, gently stroking his softening penis as he stared down at her. Shepard knelt, taking her chin in his slick hand. “Pleasure yourself.” A specter of resistance stirred in her, but his command was supported by the yearning she felt between her legs. Miranda let her knees fall open, finding her clit and rubbing at the nub. “Quick to obey this time,” he murmured, and Miranda felt the familiar flush of lust and something darker creep up her chest. Shepard noticed and cupped her breast, playing his thumb over her nipple. “You know what I think, Miranda? I think you’re tired of being perfect and being the best. I think you enjoy being taken down a notch.”
Miranda’s other hand worked its way down by its own will and sensation rushed over her like a storm, drowning out Shepard’s words. Her breath can in short pants, and Miranda squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the tightness of orgasm beginning. “No,” Shepard snapped, shaking her jaw in his hand. “You look at me.” She forced her eyes open in time for the orgasm to gust through her, and Miranda welcomed it with a shriek of delight.
It was some minutes until she came to her senses. Shepard had moved back to her office and was sitting at her desk. Miranda quirked an eyebrow at the impertinence. “I trust,” she said, gathering her dignity around herself and rising to her feet, “that my message was received.”
“That you can’t help being bossy, no matter the situation?”
Miranda smirked at that, stretching out against the doorframe. “That you need to get over your malaise of civility. If either of us are going to survive this mission, we’re going to have to be vicious. Unstoppable. Sacrifices will have to be made.”
He was silent for a moment, then leaned forward and clasped his hands. “Who did you have in mind?”