Miranda frowned at Nos Astra as she adjusted her bag of personal effects. Around her spilled an exhalation of Normandy personnel, all threading their way into the city. As XO, it felt only right to wait until all those planning to leave were gone. 'First in, last out,' as Shepard's personal doctrine dictated.
It was amazing, she thought dryly, how much Shepard had rubbed off on her. She could have resented Shepard for it, but she found that she did not. Shepard had had too much on her plate to actively try to subvert Cerberus agents: she simply did her job. People responded to that, and that alone. It was an enviable power.
"If you need me," Shepard said simply as they watched the majority of the crew disembarking, "call."
"I might just take you up on that," Miranda responded—but it was an empty politeness. Both women knew that Miranda would not ask for help until the situation demanded it. She was too self-sufficient to bother a friend with anything less than a catastrophe. Still, she appreciated the offer. Shepard wouldn't make it unless she meant it, which was yet another way Shepard and Cerberus differed.
Shepard nodded to show she'd heard, but also to indicate that she understood the subtext. She didn't miss much subtext.
It was strange, Miranda thought as the last few individuals who had taken Shepard's suggestion that anyone not wanting to be labeled 'rogue Cerberus member' should get off at Illium. Whether Shepard had arranged for the Illusive Man to pick them up or whether she had asked her friend Liara to help with the logistics of not leaving the crew stranded, Miranda didn't know. All she knew was that Shepard hadn't consulted her and that Shepard wasn't the sort to maroon her teammates.
Zaeed didn't count, and Miranda found she could finally smile about that.
"What are you going to do now?" Miranda asked.
"I can tell you what I won't do," came the bland answer.
"What aren't you going to do?" Miranda asked, wryly.
"I'm not going to ask you where the Illusive Man hangs his hat."
"You'd like to, though."
"Very much."
Miranda appreciated the reasoning behind Shepard's restraint in this matter. She, Miranda, had found herself wedged between the Illusive Man and Shepard once before—Shepard had won out. It was a place Shepard had tried to keep Miranda out of, but had ultimately failed.
Not, Miranda appended, that Shepard could complain about the outcome.
However, Shepard also understood the sense of 'owing something' to an organization that had, at one time, been a refuge, a way out, a way to advance. Even if they'd both left the organization that had granted them shelter from their teenage plights, both women still offered something in recompense for years of security in an uncertain galaxy.
Miranda paid it, now, with her silence.
Shepard had paid it in Cerberus catastrophes for mop-up.
"I have something for you," Miranda said, finally deciding how she wanted to proceed. When she woke up that morning, she hadn't been sure she would go through with this. However, standing here, now, she found that—just as she felt she owed Cerberus a sop of gratitude, despite having left—she owed Shepard something, too.
Shepard's eyebrows knitted together.
"If you take this to Dr. T'Soni, she'll find it incredibly useful. It arrived just after the crew was taken; I didn't think you'd care to hear about it at that point." She produced an OSD, which she handed to Shepard. "I think it'll prove useful."
Shepard took the OSD and slid it into a pocket. "Thanks Miranda."
Miranda nodded. "Well, you've got a war to prepare for and I have…family matters."
"Hey," Shepard tapped Miranda's arm with the back of her hand. "Keep your head down; the Illusive Man's not going to take your resignation lightly."
Miranda chuckled. "No, he's not. But I'll manage."
It was Shepard's turn to chuckle. "I don't doubt it." Awkwardly, she held out a hand, which Miranda shook. "It's been good serving with you."
"Yes."
Shepard shook her head, but did not ask if Miranda was agreeing that it was good to serve together or if it was good that she—Shepard—had had such a reliable XO to manage things. "That's what I'll miss most: your winning personality and charming sense of humor."
"Who knows: maybe I'll grow to miss the insanely dangerous situations you get into. Try to stay alive, Shepard."
Shepard's smile grew grim, indeed. "I got a second chance; trust me, I'm not going to blow it. Give Oriana my best. Keep a little for yourself, too, come to think of it." With that, Shepard clapped Miranda heartily on the shoulder, then disappeared back into the Normandy's airlock.
If Miranda knew anything about Shepard, the commander was off to investigate the OSD.
With no further reason to hang around, Miranda set off at a brisk walk. It would make sense for the Illusive Man to try something here, however it was still a little too close to where Shepard was. If Shepard got wind of an assassination attempt…
…well, Shepard did not take attacks on her crew very well. In fact, she took them as extraordinary personal affronts.
Miranda had to chuckle yet again: when this war kicked off, it was that kind of dedication to her crewmen that would inspire loyalty as the galaxy disintegrated.
And, speaking of that eventuality, she needed to start laying groundwork. Her Cerberus contacts would be very few—it was hard to depend on the loyalties of those still in the organization. However, there were bound to be a few. Apart from all this, she was clever, cunning…
…and had made certain investments that had proved fruitful over the years. Any enterprise required a certain amount of capital. Yes, she had planning to do, courses of action to orchestrate, in other words 'scheming'…
…but first and foremost, she had family to which she must attend.
-J-
Author's Note: I always had the impression even Miranda didn't really know where the Illusive Man hung his hat. So this story assumes 'shuttles with pre-programmed destinations or encrypted navigational information dispatched as needed.' It'll probably come up again at some point.