Greetings, fellow Mass Effect fans. This is my first Mass Effect story and...I will admit, the idea is odd and kinda stupid. xD I had trouble actually forming a plot out of this but basically this story is what happened when I found out in Mass Effect 2 that you could have a pet aboard the Normandy...and then when I realised that it was a space hamster you couldn't do anything with apart from watch.
Commander Shepard is sort of my own mix combined with the general in-game Shepard, so she might seem somewhat out of character. I wrote this months ago and only just now got around to editing it...so here it is, and it'll be in three parts. Thanks to all those who read and review! If you spot any errors, please let me know!
Misconduct
Part One
The near-silent ride of the elevator, even though it sometimes seemed to last longer than required, was an ambiguous experience. The soft sounds of gentle shifting combined with the subtle sensation of travelling down a shaft was as calming as any elevator ride could be, which often either made its occupants more nervous or agitated than usual, as its ignorantly tranquil music trivialised any important matter colouring one's day, or calmed them into a finer state of self-composure. It was not at all distracting; Cerberus had even managed to install a mute button if one was not so fond of the typical classical-styled music softly rolling from the overhead speakers. Personally it did not bother Miranda; after all, she did not need to concern herself with the pointless details of a short elevator ride.
The Cerberus operative had her head downturned to a datapad in her hands, one which held the specified details of the research that the commander had requested hours before. Normally Miranda would not involve herself with Shepard's affairs, but after she had reported to Garrus with a research request, he had passed it on to the XO. She wondered why Shepard had not simply asked her to begin with; she was clearly more adept at retrieving information, especially for her commander, and found herself instantly suspicious about the situation. She did not take kindly to situations that required her suspicion and scepticism, but tried to reserve judgement. She would figure out whatever was going on, even if it seemed to be a purposeful secret from her.
Finally the elevator sounded and Miranda proceeded out the exit while keeping her eyes on the datapad. She looked up with a frown at the sound of immediate noise and glanced ahead to the only cabin door on the top floor of the Normandy. Again she made an effort not to assess the situation just yet; as inquisitive as she was, she wanted to know the facts before determining anything.
Her frown grew as she heard shouting, wondering perhaps if the commander was taking out her anger on her personal terminal. It was uncommon for the Normandy's technology to become faulty, but when it did, the consequences were not at all easy to live with. Most of Miranda's work relied on the Normandy's computer systems, and even though she often suffered the most – if it happened, which was only when there was an error that interfered directly with EDI, who may have been occupied by the onslaught for a short time before she was able to restabilise her systems and override the interference – she knew that others were affected as well.
Confusion still dictating her expression, Miranda approached the door, noting the red digital lock in its centre. She was not unfamiliar with this upon the commander's door; it often signalled that she was sleeping or simply wanted time to herself. The latter frequently agitated Miranda; whatever she was doing in that time was some leisure activity not at all related to the mission. She often considered that the commander was busy playing video games or polishing her armour, but this time, the bizarre research request and random shouting had her otherwise convinced. Something must have been frustrating enough to warrant shouts.
"Commander Shepard?" she called, her voice strong. Silence suddenly bled from the locked room and she waited, knowing that her words had made aware the commander to her presence. When there was no answer, she raised a hand to knock.
Immediately the door snapped open, separating in the centre and parting ways in five fragments to reveal an armoured woman, helmet obscuring all around her face, leaning against the doorframe. Her appearance was less than casual. "M-Miranda," she began, clearing her voice. A very mild frown passed over her face, which was clearly one of confusion. "What, uhh...what brings you here?"
Miranda's eyes scanned the commander from head to toe, and as her superior noted that she was carrying a datapad, she questioned, "...Commander, why are you dressed in armour?"
Shepard glanced down, as if only then noticing that she was, in fact, adorned in her battle apparel. The metallic, white-patterned purple accented by veins of maroon stood out against the plainness of her gloomy room. Seemingly clueless, she glanced up at her visitor, her expression betraying the obvious fact that she was unsure how to explain her situation or, more curiously, simply did not want to.
"Um...it's, uhh..." Her teeth showed as her lips remained parted, almost coming together a few times as the commander tested words. She then seemed to scoff, as if the situation was nothing out of the ordinary. "I just...you know, wanted to be more...colourful."
The clearest expression of berating cynicismsoaked Miranda's face as she stared at the commander, one eyebrow raised as the other pressed down, disbelief and astoundment mingled in. Silence wafted between them as the commander awkwardly fit a hand over her shoulder and scratched the back of her neck. Her lips pressed together as she tried and failed to remain regular.
"So..." she began, clearing her throat to appear more dignified. It did not work. "Is that for me?" She gestured to the orange datapad with fabricated curiosity.
Miranda was at first unsure how to react. She resolved to clenching her jaw and simply handing it over. When the commander thanked her and devised an expected excuse to return to her cabin, which was neither genuine nor convincing, the Cerberus officer snorted a sigh and finally requested, "Commander. If I may...I wanted to know why you asked for this information."
Shepard recoiled in some vain attempt to seem surprised but amused by her. "Nosy? That's unlike you, Miranda," she teased. Miranda often liked to slot herself into affairs that did not concern her—if she could, Shepard was sure she would make an effort to include herself in anything and everything, especially where the commander was involved.
"What is not like someone is the manner in which you've been behaving today, Commander," she accused with a pointed tone. The way she said it made it sound inoffensive and born of concern, but Shepard was otherwise aware.
She tested another frown. "Do you want to give me specifics on that?"
"Well," Miranda began, lowering her eyes to the datapad in her commander's hands before returning them to her face, "the research, for one." Conspicuous guilt instantly flowed over Shepard's face as she tried to restrain a very light smile. Miranda gave her head a very brief shake, as if in misunderstanding. "What do varren have to do with the mission?"
Figuring that inventing a fraudulent explanation would get her nowhere, she responded, "It's not related to the mission. And, as my second-in-command, you need to concern yourself only with the mission, not the details of my personal affairs."
"You made it my business when you asked Garrus to research it for you," she grunted in rebuttal.
"What...?" Shepard began, her mind turning. Instantly a sneer directed toward the turian crossed her face and she shook her head a little. Then she seemed to board another train, this one of mere confusion as she looked back. "How does that make it your business?"
"He came to me after you gave him this 'assignment.' I looked into it...and that makes it my business." She raised her brow a fraction.
Before the commander could answer, a thump from her cabin alerted the two women to the obvious indication of something amiss. The commander's eyes darted back to Miranda, who she found already glaring.
"What is that?" she prompted, earning only silence. She nearly looked about to break through the entrance.
"It's the...air ducts. They've been playing up lately," Shepard answered, her straight face implying her untruthfulness.
The Cerberus operative wore an expression riddled with scepticism as she crossed her arms. "Why haven't you reported anything?"
"I can take care of it."
"Mess Sergeant Gardener is in charge of non-critical maintenance operations."
"I said it's fine," Shepard shot back. Miranda's eyes narrowed.
"Why are you trying to hide it?"
"None of your concern."
"Shepard—"
"Why are you still here?" Shepard responded, her voice low.
Miranda only tilted her head back a little, as if she was looking down upon her commander. The two stared each other down until there was another thump, at which point Miranda's face softened to one less formal. "I don't know what you're hiding, Commander, but whatever it is...just take care of it. Or I will. I didn't dedicate two years of trial-and-error to someone who couldn't handle their own problems." She cast another glance past Shepard, who took a step in her way to block her view. This seemed to finally reroute Miranda's intentions. "Just don't screw up."
"Nice to see you have faith in me," the commander answered, a tinge of playfulness to her words. Miranda did not show signs of a response as she approached the elevator and turned to face her one last time when she pressed a few buttons on the holographic terminal in the centre. Shepard bobbed her head on an angle, one of her eyebrows lifting as a shadow of a smirk occupied her lips.
When the doors closed, Miranda was left to ponder. For now, she would leave the situation alone. For all she knew, Shepard could have salvaged a drone and was trying her hand at AI hacking again. Perhaps Tali was even tutoring her. Whatever it was, Miranda only hoped that it was nothing she had to worry about much longer.
ooo
She was always hesitant to leave her alone. Although she knew that there was no way for her to escape, it was still concerning when she had to leave her room. At least every bathroom break was nothing to worry about—having an ensuite really paid off for such things. No matter how many times she had subtly requested for Mess Sergeant Gardener to install a bar fridge in her room, he either seemed to forget, or happened to be too busy at the time to agree. It bothered her that nobody else could see the importance of having one, and questioned why she could not just make her way to the fridge in the mess. She would sigh every time and claim it was convenience.
She waited impatiently for the elevator to bring her to the top floor, where only her cabin was. Even as the commanding officer, she often wondered why her suite was so lavished when most of her crew had minimal luxury in comparison. She was mostly unsure if Mordin even slept, and rarely saw Garrus outside the main battery room. She was sure that she would get complaints if her crew was not happy, however, which was enough to satiate her curiosity.
Finally arriving, Shepard punched a few letters into the holographic lock and watched the door separate, quickly racing in. She expected to find her new friend resting at the foot of the bed or perhaps scrounging around in her armour locker again. It was possible that she might find her under the bed as well, and, seeing that she was nowhere to be seen, the commander hoped that the space beneath the mattress was where she had hidden herself. She clenched her jaw and edged forward, hesitant to look in case her theory was proven wrong. There were no noises from any points of the room that she could deem unusual, as the swelling melody from her music player on the little bedside table was nothing she didn't normally hear, and suddenly felt a seed of worry burrow its way into her stomach.
As she crouched down and directed her glance into the space, her hope that she would find what she sought under her bed was crushed as she discovered that the floor was a covered by a small glass hatch. It was very minimally ajar, indicating that the lock was not in effect. She felt the seed expand the reaches of its roots and take hold as she brought a palm to her forehead and held it, trying to remain calm. Slowly she crawled forward against the floor, repeating on agitated curse after another. The creature had indeed nudged the panel open, which covered the piping below – travelling to who knows what parts of the ship – and, she realised, it had partially been her fault. A few days ago she had been inspecting the hatch, as she had not previously noticed that it was there, when she was distracted partway through and forgot to close it. Slowly she slumped against the floor, murmuring into her arm.
This was going to be a goose chase.
ooo
Clenching her teeth, Commander Shepard stepped out of the elevator. Before her were two paths, each rounding the elevator behind her and expanding into the mess hall among other middle and frontmost parts of the ship. Separate from the two paths and a few steps ahead lay a hallway that stretched to the left and right, but her destination was neither way down that hall.
As she stepped out, a crew member whose name she believed was Thomas nodded to her and took her place in the elevator. She gave him a nod as he addressed her and turned away, approaching the hallway and glancing briefly down to the left. Quickly she withdrew and composed herself as another crew member wandered by and slipped into the crew quarters. She turned around headed the opposite way past the elevator and toward the mess hall. She walked by the first table to her right, spotting the few crew members chatting at their seats. She paid them no heed, however, and instead focused on the room ahead, beside the kitchen area. She took a breath and glanced about, pretending she was entirely casual. She entered Miranda's office without suspicion every other time, but the fact that she was doing so while knowing that she did not have permission somehow made her feel as if a giant label had been slapped over her head, and an arrow shone down to point her out to her crew.
Once she slipped inside Miranda's office, she glanced about to ensure that she was alone. When she deduced that she was, she ensured that the door sealed shut and threw her head to the small platform beside it, where a holographic image appeared. "EDI, is she still here?"
The globe's talking animation flashed back and forth as she answered, "The creature is below Miranda's floor atop the piping systems."
"Okay..." Shepard whispered to herself, turning away from the AI as the globe remained. "Now I just have to wait..."
"If I may, Commander," the AI said again, and the commander threw her a glare. "The XO is only taking a short break to relieve herself. I do not believe that she will take long to return, based on previous records of the time she took to complete the task, so it is likely that you do not have much time to wait."
Fixing her eyes on the floor near the bed, the commander muttered, "I can't force her out," referring to the creature she was pursuing.
"Perhaps a treat may help to draw her out."
"Maybe..." the commander considered, but did not much like the idea. It was impractical to use anything the crew could eat, and as well as that, it would appear unusual to bring loose food into Miranda's office. If Miranda returned while the food had not yet been consumed, she would practically be forced to reveal her intentions.
She flushed the thought from her mind and decided to stick with her faith in her new "friend's" curiosity. If she had been curious enough to scrounge around for the glass trapdoor beneath her bed while she was not in the room, she was sure the creature would find her way around the ship without being revealed. It was inevitable that something bad was going to happen, but the commander had not expected her to enter Miranda's room of all the ones she could have chosen. It was possibly the worst choice given the fact that the XO was the strictest on code.
"Come here, varren, varren, varren..." she whispered, walking slowly across the room. She checked the glass panels near the chair situated to the left of the room and, seeing nothing, progressed past the convex window and came to a halt; Miranda's bed.
There were two panels to her left, where the couch lined the wall of the room, but none on the other side of the bed. Sighing, the commander approached the couch and checked both the panels, spotting nothing at first and taking a moment to decide what to do next. She figured that looking in from above was one thing, but properly checking by lifting the panels was much more efficient. She wanted to be thorough, even if she had limited time. If she failed to locate the varren and revealed herself to Miranda, however, the commander would be forced into a very awkward situation.
"Commander Shepard," began EDI after the commander had nearly forgotten about her, "Ms. Lawson has been sighted in the hall outside the women's restrooms. She is currently making her way back to her office."
"What?!" blurted the commander, her eyes wide as she shot up. "You're just telling me this now?"
"Ms. Lawson has instructed me before not to breach her privacy," the AI responded, forcing Shepard to hiss out an agitated sigh.
She promptly dropped back down to press the glass back into place and heard the lock click. As it did so, she caught sight of the varren about a metre below the glass. Shepard's eyes widened as she shoved her face to the floor and felt her nose curl into a snarl. Seeing that the varren was too far away to reach had the door been lifted, and knowing she was out of time, Shepard forced herself to leave the floor and scuttled back.
Glancing frantically around for a spot to hide, Shepard gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of her predicament. She was the saviour of the galaxy, a former Spectre and a well-renowned hero...and she was hiding from her XO in said XO's cabin, working hard to keep a varren of all creatures hidden. It was more than a little ridiculous; it was nearly degrading. However, despite the fact that she did not quite know why she was going to such lengths to keep the pet under her ownership, she raced through the office before diving beneath the desk, figuring it to be the most appropriate of places to conceal herself.
Shortly after the door's soft whoosh sounded, the commander took a breath and swallowed, trying to flatten herself against the wall of the desk. She heard nothing but the clop of Miranda's boots as something that should not have escaped her came to mind: she was under Miranda's desk, the only spot she ever seemed to be. Bringing a palm to her face, the commander thought hard until an instant solution popped into her head: her tactical cloak.
Quickly pressing a few buttons on her omni-tool, she suddenly felt a small tingle dance along the hairs on her skin before she disappeared, raising her hand in front of her face and seeing nothing but the chair behind it.
It was then that two dark legs came into view. The commander froze, fitting herself in the corner of the desk. The other woman approached her chair from the other side, which Shepard was thankful for, and pulled the seat out a fraction before sitting on it. The squeak of the vinyl-like material caused Shepard to swallow as she reminded herself how easily she could be discovered. Additionally, Miranda's legs were not half a metre away; if she stretched them, they would hit the commander before the desk. She had no idea how Miranda would react if she caught her; she could only imagine that her thoughts would be directed somewhere toward Shepard being a pervert, which she probably would not have expected, but may not have dismissed.
Shepard rolled her eyes as she considered how self-centred the woman could be, and how "factually" perfect she was. Shepard understood that her father made her to his specifications, and that she was raised to be some sort of project pushing the limits of excellence, but sometimes the way she talked about herself was a little obnoxious. It didn't help that she did not seem to like Shepard on a personal level much; it was professional or non-existent, and although the commander was somewhat keen on developing a legitimate friendship with her, she did not get the feeling that she would get much of a chance. Since rescuing her sister and arguing with Jack, Miranda had been colder toward the commander, given that she had supported Jack's side of the argument.
Shepard's thoughts halted mid-consideration as scratching sounded from the end of the office. Immediately Miranda flung her hardened gaze over her shoulder, her dark hair following with a bounce. The commander could clearly see the concern and bemusement etched into her face as she continued to stare; knowing Miranda, she would not let this go.
As it sounded again, the chair departed from the desk and the woman came to a stand. Shepard clenched her teeth and watched as the woman dressed in a tight black outfit crept closer to her bed and searched warily but briefly about with her eyes. At first she glanced to the ceiling, but quickly moved to the right of her bed, between the mattress and the clothes locker, to check underneath it.
Shepard watched with growing apprehension as she realised that the Cerberus operative could move closer to the glass panels at any moment if she passed around to the other side of her bed; if she didn't act soon, Miranda was going to find the varren. There was no way she would let this escape her either, so distracting her by pretending to enter at that moment was going to be no sort of solution. Gritting her teeth, the commander knew there was only one thing she could do.
She crept across the floor silently, thankful that she did not keep her armour on, until she reached the left side of the bed, next to the glass panels. As the other began to inspect the floor, the commander deactivated her tactical cloak and revealed herself by standing. Miranda did not look up until the commander cleared her throat, knowing in that instant that she was about to instigate the most awkward situation she had possibly ever found herself in.
When the Cerberus operative laid eyes on her, her brows came together faster than the commander could feign an innocent smile. There was silence between them before Miranda's mouth opened but remained ajar. She shook her head while her eyes narrowed, as if trying to figure out what had happened and why she was staring at a guest who was not invited.
"Commander..." She blinked a few times, as if trying to assess the scenario in her mind. Nothing was revealing itself to her, however, and she could only gape. "What—"
"Miranda, before you say anything, I think you should know something," Shepard began, her voice low and steady. She worked quickly to devise a story that would be believable enough to slash any trace of suspicion, or at least block any need to investigate its credibility. She cleared her throat. "EDI told me that your air ducts were a little blocked...with space dust."
Miranda's face did not change save for the extra dose of scepticism that soaked into her expression. "Space...dust?" She took a quick breath. "I am surprised you would come here to examine it yourself, Commander."
The suspicion in her tone made Shepard clear her throat. "Sometimes I like to assess problems myself."
Miranda was clearly not buying it. "Shepard, these are my private quarters." The manner in which she said it implied all that she wanted to convey: it was private, and Shepard had breached that privacy.
"It's not like I was spying on you; I came in here to assess the problem while you were on a bathroom break so I wouldn't disturb you." She tried to attain her dignity, two arms calmly tucked behind her back.
"Why didn't I see you before? You're in plain view."
"I...had my cloak activated," the commander responded, clearing her throat while understanding that she was completely devoid of authenticity. Miranda's frown confirmed it.
"And how did you know I was out of my office?" she questioned rather suspiciously, her tone steady.
The commander shifted her jaw until EDI responded, "I kept her aware of your location, Ms. Lawson, upon her request."
The XO's face returned to something solid and usual, which Shepard wasn't sure was a good thing or a bad thing. "I find it a little peculiar that you would use EDI like that... EDI, why is it that you didn't tell me about the...clogged pipes?"
"I instructed her not to," Shepard piped in, but was overridden by the AI's voice.
"There was nothing to report on that matter."
A frown containing some traces of expectancy skimmed the darker-haired woman's face. It was then that the commander knew that she had to come up with something more credible. "Commander..." She crossed her arms, curious about the truth and clearly angered by the lies. "I believe you owe me an explanation. A truthful one."
Shepard bit her lip. She scanned several options in her head, but the clogged piping was the only thing she could come up with. To claim that there was another problem with her cabin was going to need more evidence than what she could give, and EDI would likely spill the truth again. Clenching her teeth, she encountered the one thing which accounted for her odd behaviour, and which EDI was not qualified to clarify or deny.
Drawing a breath, she tried to compose herself as best she could and stepped to her right, coming to the foot of the bed and edging slowly around it. Miranda only seemed confused by her movement but remained still, a frown testing her face time and again. When the commander was a metre away, she formatted her face to resemble calmness and some extent of courage. It looked only to unsettle the other.
"Okay, you're right. I didn't come in here to clean some pipes..." She took another step closer, holding the XO's eyes with steady ones of her own. In her mind, she shouted warnings to herself; she seemed embarrassed by her own actions, but what was worse was knowing that she had no alternative.
"Then...would you tell me why you intruded?" Miranda questioned despite having an inkling, any nervousness she felt smothered by an attempt to remain professional.
"I think you know," the commander answered, her voice lowering. She nearly felt like slapping herself; this was all too weird. "I think you've felt that...chemistry...between us. It's been there since day one." Her steady gaze almost caressed the one standing before her, placing her in some sort of immobile state.
"C...Commander," Miranda began, still retaining some calmness indicating her self-preservation. She swallowed. "Commander, this is highly inappropriate—"
"I don't run by what's appropriate and what isn't." She took another step forward and a smirk touched her lips. "You know that."
"Shepard, please."
As the commander took yet another step and contemplated a reply, the automated voice of EDI patched in. "Commander, the location of the—"
"THAT'LL...be all, EDI," she interjected, then further instructed the AI not to contact her until after she had left Miranda's office. She could not have the AI interrupting with news on the varren's whereabouts. "We need some...privacy."
"Understood, Commander. Logging you out."
At this point, Miranda's expression had grown, dare the commander think, a little afraid. Or maybe "horrified" fit the profile better; whatever it was, Shepard thought it looked akin to a face she would pull if someone were to steal her favourite childhood doll, disembowel it and send it piece by piece through the airlock for it to float by her office.
"Commander, I...I think you need to leave," she proposed, beginning to lose her composure. Shepard gave a flicker of a smile. It was working.
"I might have to leave...but this thing we have between us, Miranda...it won't leave." She spoke softly and brought a hand up to the other woman's face, gently brushing the back of her fingers along her cheek. She traced her index finger around her jaw until Miranda pulled away, red beginning to colour her face.
"Commander, stop that." Her voice was weakening. She furrowed her brow and gave her head a brief shake, pulling away a little. "I really don't have any idea what you're talking about."
"Don't you?" Shepard pressed. She was slipping. At this rate, any distraction from the varren would be enough to draw her attention away.
It was then that scrabbling and scuffing alerted them both to where Shepard had been standing previously, on the other side of the bed. She flicked her head, spotting instantly the tip of the creature's snout through one of the glass panels. Although Miranda seemed not to notice, she certainly showed interest in investigating. Her face betrayed more suspicion than before, her brows knotting together in clear curiosity.
The commander felt a jolt of alarm zip through her; if Miranda saw so much as a scale on that varren's body, she would switch to her lecture mode and forbid the varren personally. She may have even gone so far as to alert the Illusive Man—someone whose authority Shepard was supposed to unwaveringly follow. Supposed to.
Just as the woman, seeming to ignore her commander, began to pass over to the glass panel, Shepard reached out and clutched her wrist. She was stopped in her tracks and cast her alerted expression to her captor. It was almost as if she could not properly comprehend the situation at hand.
"You're not listening..."
Miranda frowned, trying to escape. "Commander, didn't you hear that—"
Again the scuffling sounded, but the instant it began, Shepard was unconsciously making a move as swift as her reflexes would allow, and in a blur of black vinyl, Miranda lay face-up on her bed with Shepard hovering over her. Her shock went uninterrupted as Shepard's face portrayed the same reaction, as if she could hardly believe what she had just done.
The two lay for but a moment before Shepard, not wanting to allow Miranda the time to move, breathed, "I want you." Her words brushed the woman's face as her eyes narrowed with desire. A heated moment passed before a devilish smile curled onto the commander's face. "Don't you feel that...tension?"
Miranda's eyes were wide as she blushed furiously, as if trying to battle with herself over what kind of response to employ. A similar feeling suddenly overcame the commander, and she was instantaneously unsure how to proceed with the ordeal further.
"Shepard," EDI interrupted at once, startling both women and pulling them from their intense glares. "You are wanted elsewhere," was all she said before she vanished.
Shepard took a moment to contemplate this. 'Wait a second...' She flicked her head to the glass panel to her left, unable to see anything beneath them. She glanced back to Miranda, who was still frozen with surprise. The fact that the woman had not already thrown her off with biotics was a little surprising, considering Miranda did not seem to be one to tolerate unwelcome advances. Shepard gave a sly grin as she considered the fact that her charm had actually worked, even if it was simply shock that was still holding down her target.
Suddenly Miranda seemed to remember her demeanour and traces of authority returned. A frown hardened her face and she moved to push herself free. "This is—"
Instantly the commander climbed off her XO and stood attentively, brushing her clothes flat. Following her action, Miranda sat up, still bemused. "Well, nice chattin' with ya, Miranda," Shepard responded as if they had discussed the day's events over coffee, and gave a slow diagonal nod. She whirled around and hurried out of the room, and Miranda could only frown in extreme confusion.
What had just happened?
ooo
The sub-deck below the engine room was often quiet and released no more than a constant but humble drone. The red glow illuminating the piping along the walls and hard floor from the central components was almost soothing, like a constant heater that gave some form of company—the only company that Jack could stand to consistently be around. It was quiet and conservative, never bothering her about her past or questioning her opinion on the current mission.
Although she often found herself rather bored with the minimal activities on the sub-deck, she frequently had the chance to vent her boredom when she was ordered to accompany the commander with whatever missions she happened to get herself caught up in. More often than not, the leave was worth it, and even when they simply visited a store on one of the planets they happened to be passing, at least it meant a change of scenery. A chance to kill was even better.
Although she understood that company could contribute to her entertainment, she loathed visitors and made an effort to repel them at every turn. Jack did not mind Shepard so much, but only if there was something important at hand. She hardly cared to speak with the other crew members on the vessel, especially those interested in helping her. Every time Shepard's annoying yeoman slipped below deck to try to schedule a therapy appointment, Jack would purposely throw as many insults her way as possible, giving her little to go off for her "evaluations." The biotic did not once provide the shrink with details on her personal life, and therefore she was always forced to retreat with little more than a sigh.
Rolling her eyes, she lay down on her bed, folding her arms behind her head. She stared at the ceiling for the umpteenth time. Thoughts about previous missions, namely returning to Pragia, flowed through her mind, causing her to clutch her head with impatience. Sometimes she wished she could simply stop her thought process and see only blackness. Dealing with the past was never something she had been adept at. It haunted even her dreams, although she strongly opposed to idea that she was not strong enough to deal with it on her own. It seemed more like a plague in her mind than anything else. She was who she was and had no desire to change that.
A scrabbling sound made her eyes snap open. After a few seconds, she deduced that it had been a simple sound emanating from the mass effect core located above. Sometimes the thick pipes around her bedding area groaned and churned, making their presence known, so she assumed it was just that again. Without a second thought, she closed her eyes once more and stared at the back of her eyelids, watching as images began to form.
The scrabbling sounded again, only this time, it was seemingly closer. And this time, it continued. Her frown twisted with alarm and she shot up, leaping from her bed and flicking both hands to summon surges of biotic energy. Instantly she surveyed the area, ready to express her anger at the intrusion of someone who was less than welcome. However, as she threw her gaze left and right, checking spaces between the machinery around her, she could see nobody there.
"Get the hell outta here," she grunted with power behind her command. She drew her elbows in beside her body, wrists curled with the implication that she was ready to deal some damage. Her sneer would have been enough to tell anybody that, but even after her threats, the noise continued. She craned her neck and trailed her eyes down the thick piping surrounding her, turning around as she did so. "Quit pissing around and show yourself," she instructed, her voice interlaced with anger and impatience. The fiery aura crackling around her hands illuminated the area with a unique sapphire sheen, reflecting off the metallic surfaces.
Suddenly a flicker of movement caught her notice from down below. She hardly had time to register what it was before she released a shout and drove one of her hands through the glass protecting the pipes that lay below, a shattering explosion of biotic energy clearing an imperfect hole in the floor. She grunted as shards of glass leapt toward her face, her eyes binding shut before the few pieces that hit her made their mark, her right hand erupting with stings.
She staggered back, blinking her eyes open in time to see another flash from below. This time, after quickly detecting that, whatever it was, it was channelling through a gap beneath the floor, she tried to focus her energy on attacking a little more indirectly. She was quick to release a pulse of biotic energy once more, this time designed to ripple through the floor. However, her aim was misguided and the shockwave instead tore up more of the glass like it was a simple layer of cardboard, scattering a spray of glass fragments. She hissed at the fact that she had missed, but simultaneously knew that she must have eradicated whatever pest was roaming about.
After a quick assessment of the space beneath the floor, she gave a smirk. Although there were no traces of blood (save for flecks of her own), she had to have gotten whatever it was. There was no chance it could have escaped.
Satisfied, the biotic gave a grunt of triumph before bobbing back to the bed to one side of her arrangement, listening to her boots crunch stray glass. Once upon the bed, she gave a sigh and laid back down.
It was then that she heard more scrabbling.
Shooting back up to her feet, Jack surveyed the room with a deep glower etched into her features, the deadly radars that were her eyes scouring the floor for any further sign of whatever it had been that instigated her assault. To her shock, the white colouring once again showed itself, although this time it became clear that it was not the creature's only colour.
Sitting beneath the staircase to the left, Jack saw the small form of a somewhat intrigued creature sitting on its haunches. Large paws clawed with four charcoal talons revealed themselves, large blue eyes looking curiously her way.
She furrowed her brow as she edged closer, careful not to step off what remained of her glass floor. "You son of a—"
"What in the name of—" Tali stopped halfway down the right stairwell, her form freezing as she took in all that was laid out before her. Immediately Jack was distracted, and the creature promptly escaped.
She scoffed, annoyed that the animal had fled. "What the fuck do you want?"
The quarian was clearly disturbed and shocked at what lay before her, and her silence only agitated Jack. "Did...did you do this?"
"Mind your own damn business," the ex-convict grunted, attempting to wave off the intruder with a simple gesture. She only gritted her teeth when the two engineers, the names of whom she had never bothered to learn, appeared on the left set of steps. Their mouths were ajar and their eyes wide, a sight that Jack was sick of seeing.
"Woah," the woman blurted, fixing her eyes on the scene.
"What the bloody hell..." the other began.
"Jack," Tali began, concern in her voice. It only made her shoot a scowl in the quarian's direction, a little disappointed that she was unable to see the look of sheer shock on her masked face.
"Yeah, it was me," she growled, rolling her eyes. "Now everyone gawk and gasp, and then get the hell outta here."
"Commander Shepard's not gonna be happy..." the man uttered, clear interest in his voice.
"No kidding," the woman confirmed before she and her colleague made a silent decision between themselves and vanished up the steps before verbal abuse was assigned their way. When Tali remained behind, Jack shrugged at her.
"The fuck do you want?"
The quarian only watched her before she shook her head and released a sigh of disbelief. Once she had vanished up the steps, Jack gave one last brief glance to the left, where the creature had been sitting. When she could not see whatever had been there before, she gave up and returned to her bed with little more than her usual frown.
ooo
"She what?" the commander questioned, shock and confusion in her tone as she gripped the railing bordering the flooring in the main battery. The cardinal glow of the battery's core seemed to set a somewhat nerve-wracking mood as it soaked her skin. Her jaws closed in on her bottom lip.
"Would you like me to repeat the information, Commander?" came the synthetic voice of EDI from the small terminal behind her.
"No, I heard you the first time..." Shepard sighed, shaking her head in near-disbelief.
"Understood, Commander."
"Damn it...I knew something like this would happen," she grunted, extending her arms to distance herself from the bar but keeping her hands gripped. Her face was parallel with the floor as she released a prolonged groan.
The sound of someone clearing his throat reminded her that she was not the only person in the room. "So...do you want to tell me what's going on?"
"No," Shepard sighed, pulling herself up right again and quickly composing herself. She struggled to meet his eyes as the magnitude of shame and embarrassment at the situation soaked her mind. "No, Garrus, there's nothing to tell."
Her blatant lie was not going to escape his notice. One of his eyebrow plates lifted. "The AI tells you Jack's torn up the engineering sub-deck, and you try to tell me that there's nothing to share?" He was far from mocking, at least.
She released a sigh. "I'll handle it, okay?"
Garrus stared at her a second before shrugging, taking his chances and backing off. "Alright," he complied, turning to the terminal and inputting a few commands.
Releasing her tensed jaw, Shepard thanked him for understanding and mapped a course for the lower deck, where she would be sure to have a thorough conversation with Jack. However, as she moved into sight of the corridor leading to the room she currently stood in, she froze. Further ahead, where the kitchen area was, Miranda stood rather rigidly. She was thankfully not faced toward the commander while she exchanged, in what looked to be a rather impersonal fashion, information with the Mess Sergeant.
'Oh, damn; she's hunting me down!' Shepard retreated from the line of sight and sucked up against the wall not a metre from where she stood. She threw her rather agitated glare to her right, where the globe-like projection of EDI came into being. "EDI," she hissed, "did you tell Miranda about this?"
"I'm programmed to always keep the XO updated when important news arises," she replied.
"No...no, EDI, don't do that," she growled in a hushed volume. She then rolled her head a little around the corner to spot the shiny black form of Miranda ascending the few steps before the walkway to the battery. Her eyes were on the data pad in her hand, thankfully, but when Shepard retreated, she knew that she was in for a lecture. "No..."
Frantically she searched the room for somewhere to hide. Garrus once again noticed her odd behaviour and frowned. "What are you—"
"Shh!" the commander hissed, hearing the clopping of her predator's shoes closing in. "You have to hide me. I'm not here."
Garrus glanced behind himself before stepping toward her, concern on his face as he chuckled, "Shepard, what—"
Shepard only released a small droning noise, biting her lip. "This might be a little awkward after I tried to seduce her."
Immediately Garrus was taken aback and frowned, staring at her with a look of utter shock on his face. "Seduce—?"
Before either of them could say any more, the unsettling pointed calmness that seemed to be always present in Miranda's tone entered the commander's ears, and she span around as Garrus did, slamming her back against his. He jolted forward a moment before Miranda entered the room.
"Garrus, do you—" She paused when her eyes scanned his form, finding his position to be a little random. She did not question it, however, and instead simply asked, "Where is Commander Shepard?"
"Shepard?" Garrus began, feigning innocence. He gave a shrug and shifted his weight a little to lean further backwards, nearly throwing the commander off-balance. He pretended not to notice as he brought a hand to his mouth and cleared his throat in an overly casual fashion. "Nope. Haven't seen her since..." His words stopped flowing as he realised that he did not have something to finish it with. Understanding that his cover-up had been a failure, he continued, "...A while."
Miranda crossed her arms and leaned on one leg. The other was bent at her knee. "Commander," she began, the sound of silence following. Garrus raised a hand to his neck to scratch it, understanding by that point that the Cerberus operative was indeed aware of her target's presence. When Shepard only remained where she was, Miranda pinched out another sigh. With increased authority and a tinge of anger, she repeated, "Commander."
"Miranda," Shepard began, stepping out from behind Garrus with a look of fabricated professionalism. Garrus nearly toppled backwards at the loss of his support.
"Commander, you have some serious priorities to reconsider," Miranda hissed, her tone deep and disapproving.
Shepard only sighed and pushed past her. "And you need to lay off."
"I'm only interested in what's best for you and your crew," claimed the darker haired women, who proceeded to follow her commander.
"Don't forget Cerberus," Shepard mumbled somewhat grudgingly.
Miranda was quick to catch up with her. "Stop the secrecy and tell me what you brought onto the ship." When she got only the cold shoulder in response, she stopped in her tracks, expecting her superior to do the same. "Commander."
Annoyed, Shepard span around. "What?"
"Is it a varren?"
Guilt coloured Shepard's face as she cast her glance away. When Miranda only continued to stare her down, she breathed a sigh and stepped closer, sternness tinting her face as her voice lowered. "I can take care of it."
"Animals larger than a space hamster are prohibited aboard the Normandy," Miranda pressed, the look of shock and disapproval on her face clearly depicting how seriously she took the situation. "I would have thought you knew that."
"I said I can take care of it," Shepard hissed, and Miranda only shook her head. "I brought it on board and I knew the consequences... Keep your freakin' thong on while I figure out what to do with it."
Miranda hardly seemed fazed by the undergarment implication and shook her head. Both stared the other down before she growled, "If this matter doesn't resolve itself, I'll have no choice but to report to the Illusive Man about this."
The commander rolled her eyes. "Like a good little lapdog." She shook her head and targeted the elevator.
Miranda clenched her jaw but otherwise showed no sign of an altered composure. "I report to him because he has earned my loyalty."
The commander uttered a bitter chuckle. "Oh yeah, that's right. You can be loyal to a racist bastard whose syndicate has a history of performing outrageous experiments on helpless victims to further their goals at whatever the cost, but you can't be loyal to your commander because you had a little spit with Jack and you can't bear that I sided with her?" She shook her head and blinked in disbelief, hardly able to understand the logic. "Grow up."
Miranda sighed, shaking her head as the commander disappeared around the corner and into the elevator.
ooo
"Why can't you just give it to me?"
"Because when people bring food out of the mess, the plates have a habit of mysteriously disappearing and they don't buy themselves replacements."
Jack gave a snarl, her hands drilling into the counter. The mess sergeant only glared back at her, holding the plate out of reach above the stove. Within a few seconds, the biotic's hand was alit with crackling sapphire energy, sparks leaping about as if engaging in a rigid tango. She vaulted over the counter and leaned in close, driving him back against the inbuilt counters and appliances. Her hand was at his throat.
"Give me the damn food or that plate won't be the only thing that needs replacing."
Mess Sergeant Gardener stiffened and narrowed his eyes, but despite the serious threat, he did not give in. "Make me."
"Jack, Mess Sergeant," Garrus interrupted, standing between the counter and the preparation bench. They each turned to him, the cook looking considerably unnerved. "Might be a good idea to save your argument for when the entire crew isn'twaiting on their meal." When the response was a heavier scowl from Jack and a steady frown from the mess sergeant, Garrus added, "Reasonable suggestion, if you ask me."
With a grunt, Jack tore from the cook and stormed past Garrus, eying him angrily. "Fuck this! I don't want your gravy-drowned shit anyway." Still bubbling with deadly biotic energy, she flounced toward the elevator, muttering a few curses.
The Mess Sergant's face crinkled with distaste. "Roast beef is a delicacy aboard a ship like this!"
Noting with annoyance that she needed to relieve herself, Jack pulled away from the elevator and toward the women's restrooms, which she entered at a hurried, determined pace. When the door to the room separated in fragments, her eyes fell upon something and she paused. She watched with confusion as the commander, bent down, inspected a toilet. She seemed to be completely preoccupied with this until Jack's intrusive, blunt tone drilled through whatever sort of bizarre barrier Shepard had erected around her.
"The hell're you doing?"
When Shepard turned, the look of guilt and surprise on her face made Jack raise an eyebrow. As impatient as she was with the commander, she wanted to know what happened. The crouching woman came to a stand. "Uhh...this...probably looks weird," she began, and Jack only gave her a look that told her that her terminology was off its mark. "I'm looking for something."
"...In a toilet."
"Yes...I dropped something...it's complicated..." she began, pulling away from the toilet. She avoided eye contact before she pushed lightly past her and disappeared down the hall.
As Shepard hurried away, she felt shivers down her spine. That had been too close. Jack's unexpected visit had thrown her off her game, but she reasoned with herself, noting that the varren could not have been in that room after all. Knowing that she needed to find a private space where she would be able to talk to EDI without anybody else hearing, the commander quickly slipped into the men's toilets, finding with a pleasant surprise that there was nobody inside.
"Where is it, EDI?"
"I believe she has caught scent of the food that Mess Sergeant Gardener has been preparing."
Shepard's face flushed. "She's...she's in the mess?"
"Beneath it, travelling atop the piping."
"Damn!" she cursed, growing a heavy scowl. She gritted her teeth and considered what that would mean; everybody who was eating in the mess – which was most of her crew – would see this creature now, and her secret would be exposed. She could only hope in vain that Miranda was not there. Then maybe she could convince the rest of the crew not to speak of what they saw. If Miranda found out that the creature was loose, she would have it found and relocated immediately. For a moment Shepard wondered why this varren meant so much to her, but now was not the time to dwell.
As much as she wanted to swear everyone to secrecy against the Ice Queen, she knew it was unethical, and would not be fair on the crew. Admitting this to herself, she growled and forced her hand into the glass before her, a small section of the mirror shattering while other parts grew hairline cracks.
She turned to the sight of a random male crew member standing in the doorway. The commander paused where she stood, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the man before her. She nearly shook her head at the fact that she had been caught again. The man swallowed, but showed no signs of fear despite the oddness of the situation.
"It's not what it—"
"No," he began, raising his hands, "I get it." He strolled in, as if everything was perfectly normal, targeting a urinal near her. "I really hated that mirror too."
Shepard did not wait longer to remove herself from the bathroom, hurrying down the hallway. From behind, she heard a curious voice. "Shepard."
She turned around, instantly recognising the voice. "Kasumi," she blurted in some sort of primal greeting.
"I see you've been..." She glanced to the men's bathrooms, and although most of her face was obscured by the hood covering it, the commander could clearly tell that she was frowning in confusion. "...Keeping up with crew affairs."
The insinuation in her voice made Shepard frown and shake her head wildly. "No, no," she began, her voice a chuckling mess of failed attempts to convince her crewmate otherwise, "that's not—"
"Any of my business," she stated, her words tinged with amusement, moving silently around her and into the crew deck. Shepard only sighed once she was gone and brought a palm to her head.
"Think," she told herself forcefully, trying to devise a solution in her mind. "You're Commander Shepard...you must have some idea for what to do."
As her mind turned with options, something suddenly popped into her head. She remembered one time when Mess Sergeant Gardener accidentally set something on fire while he was cooking, and the smoke instantly triggered smoke alarms. The whole crew deck was an uproar before EDI had cast a strong voice throughout the floor that there had been no fire at all. Maybe, in a similar situation...
Shepard gave a smirk. She knew what she had to do.