Author note: Another short one, I know. So sue me. Except you can't. Yay for anonymity...

Edit: different version, as Miranda was a bit out of character in the original. Sorry, I was intoxicated...

Robbery, Assault and Battery

The biotics made her advance on the cockpit significantly easier. Despite the fact that humans and aliens alike had had at minimum decades to become more accepting of the idea that there were those among them that could do things that appeared practically magical in nature, that time had done nothing to dull the suspicion and fear that biotics were treated with; all it had done was demonstrate the wisdom of exercising caution when dealing with said 'gifted' individuals.

As such, the blue aura surrounding her already striking figure did much to clear a path, in all likelihood helped by the fact that those who were slow to move were given a flat look that gave them the impression that this woman didn't see you as a person, more an obstacle to be removed so that she could move on to more important issues.

The security that was guarding the cockpit, as safety protocol dictated, aimed their guns at her as soon as they saw her. Not breaking her stride, she slammed both of them into bulkheads, skulls first, with sufficient force to induce unconsciousness... and possibly brain damage. Mentally, Miranda urged herself to calm down. Technically, this wasn't going to be a public commercial flight once she'd taken the ship... hopefully that would help.

She retrieved one of the security personnel's shotguns, disliking the weapon for its crudity but recognising her limited options and unwilling to waste it, before turning to the heavily reinforced door that protected the pilot's cabin. Something about simply smashing the door in with raw biotic force appealed to her, but she dismissed the idea as needlessly strenuous and risky, and hacked the protocol with her Omni tool, before rising and moving through the door, shotgun raised.

The pilot was practically a nervous wreck, having watched her progress via the passenger surveillance devices, and clearly in no state to be in control of a spacecraft, particularly not one that hadn't been built for combat but was going to experience it regardless. Fortunately, she had never had any intention of allowing him to do anything of the sort. She pulled him from his seat with careful gravity manipulation in order to avoid damaging equipment, before sending him out of the cockpit, and utilising her Omni tool to shut the door and erect further firewalls to improve the network's paltry security.

Seating herself at the controls, she activated the intercom, allowing herself a moment to deal with the hysterical passengers before she salvaged her assignment.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have taken the vessel, and are now on a course to the original destination of Elysium. If you cooperate, you will not be harmed. Return to your seats and remain quiet until instructed otherwise."

She had embellished the number of hijackers in order to induce a greater dose of fear that would increase the likelihood of compliance with her requests, allowing the passenger's imaginations to embellish further as they willed, the human mind being prone to imagining that which it fears the most if one allows it to. The passengers returned to their seats and became quiet, although there was a quiet buzz of speech that would be difficult to pinpoint. Possibly some more determined or foolish individuals were plotting to reclaim the ship, but she didn't need to worry at this stage; everyone was seated and she'd notice if anyone approached the cockpit, at which point she could deal with them as the situation warranted. She set a course for Elysium and jumped the vessel into FTL.

During the remaining hour of the journey, she scanned the extranet for details on the attack on Elysium. Apparently, the Alliance was responding, but sluggishly, and the batarians were wreaking havoc on the ground. In other news, Thaddaeus Shepard, the psychopathic Butcher of Torfan, was missing, along with his guard detail.

Beyond that was nothing more than unverified rumour and hazy, untrustworthy details. She refused to believe that the bastard was dead until she'd seen his corpse for herself; and at this point she was unsure as to whether she'd be upset about it.

Moments before she exited FTL, the situation was thus; the Alliance had scrambled sufficient ships to be able to launch a counter strike against the batarian flotilla, but were unable to deploy ground units. The Operative's plan was quite simply to land her vessel at Shepard's last known co-ordinates, and follow the trail of bodies, be they human or batarian. She was well aware of the probability that her ship wouldn't breeze through the combat zone unscathed, but it was a chance she had no choice but to take.

"This time, I have to save the psychopath..." She muttered, bracing herself, glancing around the cockpit to ensure-again-that all was prepared. On the surveillance screens, a group of young men had left their seats and were advancing on the cockpit. Exasperatedly, Miranda activated the intercom.

"Return to your seats. This vessel is about to enter a combat zone. You will not be given a further opportunity to comply." Their response was to jeer incoherently at the cameras, something about 'bluffing'. She muted the surveillance systems, and returned her attention to the controls; she didn't have time to deal with these boys anymore...

The commercial transport vessel exited FTL.