Chapter Four – The Alpha On Omega
The warm water of the shower swam through Miranda's thick hair, dripping suds of shampoo down her body. She turned the tap off and stepped out of the shower. The mirror had not even steamed. Miranda was quick and efficient, living by the bare essentials.
As she towelled her hair and wrapped it into a powder blue turban, she heard a feminine cough behind her. In the later stages of healing Shepard, Miranda had a reoccurring dream where Shepard grabbed her hand from the operating table, smiled at her and said thank you. The rest of the dream was always different, but always exciting. But it was not Shepard waiting for her. It was Liara, lab coat pulled tight at her waist, looking at Miranda as if she were an uninteresting specimen on a microbe tray.
"So this is what the perfect human looks like," Liara said.
It was clear the sight did not impress her.
"You mind telling me what you're doing in my bathroom?"
"Does Shepard know that you've been manufactured to be perfect? That you're false?"
"My engineering isn't a secret," Miranda said.
"But you haven't told her."
A drop of water fell from Miranda's fingertips, splashing her foot. It heightened her awareness of nakedness. Rather than becoming embarrassed, she turned around to give Liara a full view of her. If Liara was insistent on describing perfection as a weakness, Miranda would just have to show her how it was a strength.
"It hasn't come up."
"Shepard doesn't like it when her crew keep secrets," Liara said.
"She doesn't like it when they fuck justicars behind her back, either."
As Miranda applied a roll on deodorant, her eyes found Liara's reflection in the mirror and saw that her barb had stung.
EDI appeared from a wall port.
"Commander Shepard has asked the crew to gather in the CIC."
"Tell her I'll be right down," Liara said as she turned and left.
Miranda walked through to her quarters and removed her uniform from its hanger. She stepped inside of zipped it up, strapping an array of guns into her back and hip holsters. The only accessories she needed. She walked along to the elevator and thumped her fist heavily into the button.
"You took your time," Shepard said as the elevator doors opened.
A smirk on Liara's blue lips.
"I was in the shower," Miranda said.
"This isn't summer camp, so let's keep the bubble baths to a minimum."
Miranda nodded respectfully. Childish tattling was not her style.
"We're going to Omega," Shepard said.
"Nice to see you actually read the reports you get sent," Miranda said.
"We'll need Mordin when things get more complicated. If Archangel's stayed alive this long he's good. We'll see how good when we get there."
Shepard sat in between Liara and Miranda on the shuttle to Omega, all six eyes dead ahead. Shepard sucked on a lollipop, the candy coating giving her teeth a sickly veneer. She held the paper stick between two fingers as if it was a cigarette. The act was therapeutic.
Liara fought the urge to rest her head on Shepard's shoulder. The simple gesture of closeness was common on the old Normandy, but she did not think it would be well received here. Shepard had taken an immediate dislike to Miranda, but Liara knew Shepard well enough to be concerned. Shepard's typical reaction to a stranger was apathy. Strong feelings were a worry. Strong feelings could be inverted.
It was almost as if Miranda could sense Liara's insecurity.
"Have you decided about recruiting Samara?" Miranda said.
Shepard removed the lollipop from her mouth, twirled it in the air and slid it back between her teeth.
"We need the best of the best. Justicars fit the description."
"She's on Omega currently, tracking a dangerous criminal. We could pick her up now," Liara said.
"After the mission. I want to size her up before I take her out in the field."
The shuttle landed and they stepped out into Omega. Red lighting climbed the walls in sharp shapes. The atmosphere was vampiric, like it could drain the life out of you if you stood still long enough.
"There's an asari who runs things here. She'll help us get a handle on what our first move should be."
"Where will we find her?" Liara said.
"An executive box overlooking the nightclub. Likes to think of herself as the queen, and that's her throne."
The three of them walked forward, past the line of misfits waiting to get in. Two asari girls in heavy makeup giggled as they passed by. One of the girls waved flirtatiously at Liara and winked.
"Friends of yours?" Miranda said.
Liara ignored her.
A thick arm shot out across their path.
"Back of the line," the bouncer said.
He was a turian, and looked strong enough to crush their spines into sherbet.
"You wanna take a look at my outifit and reconsider?" Shepard said.
She turned her hips like she was showing off a dress, careful to let the light glare off the Cerberus logo on her shoulder and the grenade launcher on her back.
The turian's stare did not waver.
"You have business with Aria?"
"I need intel on Archangel."
"Those guns are enough to get you and your friends past me. Try any shit inside and Aria's men will have you on toast."
"Duly noted," Shepard said, stepping around the bouncer. He made no attempt to move for her.
Shepard drove through the hoard of dancers, ramming anyone in her way. Miranda followed suit, moving into the cracks left by Shepard. Liara lacked the strength of her companions, trying to weave in between the crowds and being pinballed around the dancefloor.
Two shotgun wielding batarians blocked the steps to Aria's office. Miranda and Liara hung back as the guns were raised and pumped. Shepard took another step forward, daring them. One of the batarians pushed a finger to his earpiece.
"Aria's waiting for you Shepard," he said, stepping aside.
Aria had her back turned to Shepard as the office doors opened. It was a power play from a woman who prized power above all else. Her purple skin shone with a regal elegance of complete control, her leather jacket and knee high boots were scuffed with the fight of the streets.
"So, you have risen."
"How'd you know I was coming?"
"When a ghost lands on my station, I like to know about it," Aria said.
"I prefer to think of myself as a zombie."
Aria looked over her shoulder and smiled.
"Isn't that a little demonic for a Christian like you?"
Shepard bit her tongue with irritation.
"So you get sent my reports too?"
Aria stepped down her stairs, stiletto heels clicking on the metallic steps like rifle bullets.
"Please, I don't get sent them. I take them."
The sentence started as a joke and ended deadly serious. Aria walked around Shepard, examining. There was no doubting Aria was powerful, but clearly exactly how powerful was never tested. Omega was driftwood floating through space. Finally, a challenge had arrived.
"Come with me."
Aria guided them through a doorway. The room was dark, lit by a bare lightbulb that flickered epileptically.
"My God," Liara gasped.
There was a man chained up. His writs were shackled to the ceiling, shirt torn and blood stained. His lip was split open and purpled, face cut and nose swollen.
"Having a party?" Shepard said.
Aria walked over to him and stroked his face. Scruffy stubble poked out from his bruised cheeks.
"This little human decided it was a good idea to rape nine asari girls in my territory."
She slapped him hard, leaving a hand print of hatred.
He let out a defeated moan. Aria grabbed him by his hair, jerking his head back at an agonising angle.
"I thought I'd wait until you got here. Show you I don't tolerate it when humans fuck with me."
Aria spat in his face. The moisture slid down his nose and dripped from the tip.
"Nobody fucks with Aria."
Aria drew a gun and pressed it into the man's forehead.
"Shepard, you can't allow this," Liara said.
Shepard stepped forward and grabbed Aria's gun.
"I don't like it when people touch my things," Aria said.
This went for the gun and the asari girls. The glint in her eye said she didn't mind firing two shots.
"Execution style's too kind for him," Shepard said.
Aria raised an eyebrow.
"What did you have in mind?"
"You got his key?"
Aria removed it from her pocket. It was old fashioned, carved from metal.
"Try anything stupid, you're dead."
Aria pressed the teeth into Shepard's palm. She wanted a challenge, but she didn't plan on losing.
Shepard unlocked one of the man's hands, leaving him to hang ungainly from the other. She grabbed his hand and rested it on a workbench. Her fingertip tickled up the base.
"I want you to understand, that this is a metaphor."
There was a pop, crunch and wail as Shepard twisted his finger out of its socket. Liara had to turn away as Shepard continued around his mangled hand. With all five fingers broken, Shepard lifted his hand back into its lock.
"Halfway there," Aria said.
Shepard unlocked his other hand. It plummeted like a dead weight.
"Did you like it when the asari girls begged? Or did their screams get you off? Tears, maybe?" Shepard said.
Shepard picked up his hand and slammed it into the workbench.
"I'm only asking because this is doing nothing for me. I'm gonna need a little more effort on your end."
"Put him out of his misery, Shepard," Miranda said.
"He's earned his misery."
More fingers were snapped and crushed. Eventually only the thumb was left.
"You're down nine fingers. That's one for every little girl."
Shepard yanked on his thumb until the bone pierced through the skin of his palm. Miranda winced and Liara covered her ears as the man screamed. His torn flesh flapped loosely like a half mast flag.
"That last one was just for luck."
"Can I shoot him now?"
Aria said, gun already drawn.
Shepard moved Aria's aim down to his stomach.
"He'll take longer to bleed out that way," Shepard said.
Aria smiled and pulled the trigger.
"Now, what would you three ladies like to drink?"