Chapter 4

After Shepard proved to be particularly helpful in removing the remaining pieces of Miranda's combat armor, as well as the skin-tight base layers she wore beneath, the couple escaped into the shower before eventually migrating back down to the bedroom space.

A little over an hour later, her pent-up tension and anxiety thoroughly relieved, Miranda slipped out of the bed and began retrieving her discarded clothes.

Pulling up her panties, she felt Shepard's admiring eyes on her. She looked over her shoulder at him, covering her breasts demurely with her arms, and smiled. "Shouldn't you be getting back to your duties, Commander?"

"Always cracking the whip, XO," he said, smiling back at her.

"I'm afraid leisure time is over. For now." She gave a wink. "Your ship needs its captain."

He gave a good natured sigh and jumped out of bed, stepping closer to her and placing his hands on her hips. "And this ship's captain needs his second in command," he said, leaning in and kissing her.

"You have her. But right now you need to get dressed and give me some privacy." She pushed on his chest gently.

Shepard pulled her back against his body and kissed her again. "Aye, aye, ma'am," he said before turning toward his dresser to begin the hunt for fresh clothes.

She smiled again, licking her lips, aware of her elevated pulse. In truth, she could have easily spent many more hours alone with Shepard. They had been sleeping together for weeks now, and once Miranda had gotten past her initial reluctance to carry on the romance, she had found it increasingly difficult to sustain her focus on her regular shipboard duties. Inevitably, her mind would always drift toward the man and she would find herself nearly overcome with excitement, eagerly anticipating their next opportunity for intimacy.

But at that moment, her mind was also on Oriana. Liara had promised in her message that she'd have a secure extranet video chat line available in a short time and Miranda was anxious to confirm with her own eyes that her sister was safe and unharmed. She expected the link to become available any minute now.

Miranda was wrapping herself with a borrowed robe from Shepard's closet when the soft chime of the impending transmission came through. She quickly sat down at the nearby desk and began to run a brush through her long, raven-black hair, waiting for the vid link to establish connection.

Shepard had donned a pair of tactical pants and a t-shirt he'd managed to unearth from his perpetually untidy uniform cabinets and was just pulling on his boots. He gave Miranda another quick kiss on the cheek, told her he was heading back down to the crew deck to check in on the squad, and then hurried out of the cabin, granting the sisters their privacy.

She watched him leave, a radiant smile on her face, and glanced back at the monitor to find Oriana's face staring back at her.

Oriana was gawking, an amused expression on her face. "Randa, you are absolutely glowing!" she blurted out, giggling.

Surprised, Miranda immediately went flush and quickly tried to force her expression flat. Failing that, she gave a half-hearted glare before finally allowing her joyful smile to reappear. It was no use. She couldn't help it. She was glowing.

After sharing a laugh, the two Lawson women went on to talk for nearly an hour. Oriana had told her older sister that the unexpected relocation, which had apparently taken place during the very early morning hours locally, had been tense and a little unnerving. But she'd taken it all in stride, adapted quickly, and even helped the agents get her adoptive mother and father moving quickly and into the waiting sky van. Miranda was beaming with pride as she heard the tale, marveling at the resilience and instincts the girl possessed.

Growing up in her biological father's household, beginning at an absurdly young age, Miranda had been subjected to rigorous academic, technical, athletic, and artistic training. As the chosen heir to his vast corporate empire and the means by which his genetic legacy would live on, Henry Lawson spared no expense in molding his daughter into a singular and distinctive woman. The finest tutors and instructors, both on Earth and in the surrounding solar system, were brought in to advance her skills, knowledge, and natural abilities.

Following her intentional, controlled exposure to element zero and after the resulting biotic abilities began to manifest within her, her father saw to it that Miranda was implanted with a highly advanced, proprietary bio-amp. Several masters of the discipline were brought in, including even an asari Matriarch, to ensure she would develop into a truly exceptional biotic.

And after Miranda had finally shed her father's ironclad grip upon her life and fled to Cerberus, the Illusive Man recognized her extraordinary gifts and picked up where Henry Lawson had left off. Her combat skills, both on the ground and in the air, were honed to a razor sharp state. She was schooled in both terrestrial battlefield and space combat tactics and strategy. And the organization's most skilled covert operatives ensured she would become a master in the field of clandestine operations, including infiltration and assassinations.

Oriana, on the other hand, was provided with none of those exceptional resources and teachers. She had grown up in a normal human household, held to reasonable standards and expectations, all the while enjoying a supportive group of family members and friends. But she still possessed the same superior DNA as Miranda, with physical and mental gifts that far exceeded the average eighteen year old girl.

Seeing and talking to her now, Miranda couldn't help but reflect on the extraordinary science their father had leveraged to achieve his ambitious, egomaniacal goals. His pursuit of a genetically superior heir had, in fact, succeeded on a number of levels. Both his daughters possessed tremendous advantages over all but the very most gifted of humans and displayed exceptional talents in any number of ways. It was a stunning achievement, she admitted. But one she was determined to see that Henry Lawson never reaped the benefits of.

Eventually, she went on to explain as much as possible to Oriana about what had prompted the abrupt relocation. Without going into detail, she told her that she had been involved in a dangerous mission and that when she had returned there had been some unforeseen complications. She stopped short of naming Cerberus, Shepard or the Collectors specifically, but tried to convey that there had been a number of valid factors that made the move imperative. The incomplete information left her perpetually curious sister a little frustrated, but Miranda tried to placate her by promising to go into much greater detail as soon as they next met in person.

For her age, Oriana was tremendous savvy and insightful. She seemed to understand the need to keep things at a high level for the time being and reluctantly accepted the need for discretion. For her own part, Miranda was determined to keep her promise and reach her sister as soon as possible. Her ties with Cerberus permanently severed, she was committed to preserving the new-found relationship with her sister, embracing the only family she had.

After finally signing off, Miranda felt another wave of relief wash over her. Just hearing Oriana's voice and seeing for herself that the girl was safe and unharmed did wonders for her soul. And along with that feeling of serenity came a renewed certainty about her decision to break from Cerberus. All her lingering doubts and counter-arguments seemed to dissolve away and she was left with a surge of optimism for the future. The Illusive Man would not let either of them go easily, but she was confident in her ability to keep them both safe.

Shepard and Liara had given her and Oriana this opportunity. In a way, she still marveled at the selflessness of those two. But Miranda was also keenly aware of the debt she owed specifically to the asari. It was a potentially awkward situation, knowing that T'Soni and John had been more than simply friends and colleagues during their time together before the Collectors destroyed the original Normandy.

But now Miranda and Shepard were together. And she was aware of how it must have been an uncomfortable feeling for Liara when he'd called in the favor to protect his new girlfriend's little sister.

She paused and thought about that for another moment. Were they a couple? As soon as the notion had slipped to the forefront of her mind, Miranda realized she was smiling again. Still sitting at Shepard's desk and wrapped comfortably in his soft cotton robe, she gave a contented sigh, feeling safe and at ease.

But then the fatigue hit.

It was both sudden and intense. She had been working without sleep for the last two days leading up to their mission through the Omega 4 Relay and had been running on pure adrenaline for the better part of the last several hours. The comedown from that high was severe.

With no small amount of effort, Miranda stood up and made her way up the short set of stairs to the upper level of Shepard's cabin. She made a cup of hot tea at the beverage station before retreating back downstairs, climbing back onto the bed and propping her back up against some pillows.

Intending to relax for only a short time in order to gather her energy before getting dressed and returning to her duties, Miranda managed only a few sips of her tea. Soon, she found herself unconsciously sinking ever lower into the bed, her focus and motivation abandoning her.

A moment later, the former Cerberus operative had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep.

When Miranda awoke, she found that she had been placed carefully under the plush covers with her head laid comfortably upon several soft pillows. Momentarily disoriented, and nearly forgetting where she was, she sat up quickly and saw Shepard sitting at the end of the bed, grinning back at her.

"Good morning," he said, smiling affectionately and holding a steaming cup of coffee in one hand.

"Mmm… Good morning," Miranda said, suppressing a yawn. "How long…?"

"Have you been out?" Shepard interrupted. "About six hours."

Miranda's jaw dropped slightly in surprise. "What?"

"Relax, XO. You needed it," Shepard said.

Miranda opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it again, recognizing the futility. It was done. There was no point in protesting the fact that she'd gotten some much needed sleep. She then pushed herself up straighter against the headboard and pulled the robe she still wore a little tighter around her body. She glanced to the nightstand on her left and noticed the thin wisps of steam rising from a fresh cup of tea.

"For me?" she said, smiling warmly.

He nodded.

"Thank you. Did you sleep too?"

"Oh, I crashed out on the sofa in Port Observation for a bit after Garrus and I threw back a few drinks. I brought you some fresh clothes too," he said, nodding to his left.

Miranda then noticed a set of her clothes laid out on the end of the bed—her signature white and black skin-tight outfit. Her boots were on the floor nearby.

"Thank you," she purred, but then caught herself, "Wait. Did you go through my drawers?"

Shepard raised his free hand in surrender. "Whoa, only to grab your outfit," he explained. "I asked EDI where you kept the cat suit and she pointed me right to the proper spot in your closet."

Miranda glared at him, setting her jaw in that way she does. "Cat suit? That is not a cat suit, you ass!"

"Okay, okay. Right. Sorry," Shepard said, attempting to backpedal, but still grinning. "Well, I guess its best I don't ask about this then." He reached behind his back and lifted up a hanger, revealing a black, lacy Babydoll lingerie outfit.

Miranda's eyes went wide. "Give me that!" she cried, looking scandalized. She reached out her long arm and snatched the garment from his grip.

Shepard laughed and held his hand up again. "I'm sorry. I couldn't resist. It was just hanging there and I couldn't find a single Cerberus emblem stitched on it anywhere, so, you know, I thought maybe…" He trailed off, the words dying in his mouth as Miranda fixed him with a withering glare. But his admiring grin endured.

Miranda was shaking her head in playful disgust, eyeing the man who seemed to take so much pleasure in goading her. Despite her typical provocative outfits, she was an intensely private person and felt mortified that he'd sifted through her wardrobe. Still, she felt no genuine malice toward him. She couldn't help it. There was no way for her to remain truly angry with him when he was flashing that disarming smile her way. The annoyance he incited within her eventually just melted away and she was reduced to simply smirking back at him. There was no use. She was simply far too much in love with the man. Though, she didn't dare tell him that. Not yet anyway.

And to be fair, she reminded herself, she had long ago been through every single drawer, locker, and cabinet in the Commander's quarters. Finally, she let out a little sigh and rolled her eyes. "So, where are we?"

"Just over three hours out from Omega. I've already called ahead and arranged for a dry dock. We'll owe Aria something for that, I'm sure."

"Uh huh," Miranda said, nodding suspiciously. "I better get dressed then."

"Right. So… what are you going to put on?" Shepard asked, completely failing to keep a straight face.

"The cat su—," Miranda began before catching herself and scowling, "—my regular outfit!" She then held up the lingerie and adopted a suggestive tone. "This, you should be so lucky to see me in."

Several hours later, the Normandy was resting in a relatively discrete section of the Omega dock yards. Heavy automated cranes were bringing in raw materials and a number of maintenance drones had already begun to descend on the battered frigate, wasting little time in beginning the major structural repairs.

Miranda wasn't entirely comfortable with whatever arrangement Shepard might be compelled to make with Aria in order to secure the dry dock facilities, but they admittedly had precious few other options immediately available to them. The extensive Cerberus resources and support they had enjoyed was now gone and they were still operating well outside of any sanctioned Alliance Navy capacity. For the time being, they were on their own and would have to improvise in order to maintain the ship and crew.

On their final approach to Omega, Shepard had also made his official announcement to the crew— He was taking possession of the Normandy by invoking his Council Spectre authority and ending his association with Cerberus. He went on to offer his gratitude for the jobs they had all carried out so heroically during the last six months and to express his pride and respect for each and every one of them. He then presented the crew with a choice.

"For those of you that would like to remain in my service aboard the Normandy, you are welcomed. However, the requirement for this option is your formal resignation from Cerberus. Those that wish to continue your employment with Cerberus, XO Lawson will arrange for your transfer off-ship once we arrive on Omega and assist with transit out of the system. Whatever your choice, see XO Lawson prior to our docking and she'll sort you out."

Not a single Cerberus crewmember opted to leave the Normandy, which made for a busy final few hours of flight for Miranda as the ship rapidly approached the massive space station. Not only did Shepard insist that all who chose to remain aboard officially cut ties with Cerberus, many also needed help in arranging relocation of family or notification of friends and relatives. Fortunately, Miranda was able to leverage dozens of favors owed to her to help provide for the crew and ensure they could continue to serve the Commander without fear for their loved ones' safety.

But truth be told, Miranda knew that the rank and file crewmen wouldn't be of significant interest to the Illusive Man as reprisal targets. The actual concern, and what she knew Shepard understood, was the need to vet them thoroughly enough to be sure their loyalties did not remain with Cerberus as they continued serving onboard. It was not an exact science by any means, but Miranda threw herself into the task enthusiastically.

Meanwhile, after completing a thorough walk around inspection of the Normandy and directing the dock workers and repair droids Aria had allocated to the most severely damaged sections of the ship, Jacob, Zaeed and Garrus insisted on dragging the Commander to Afterlife for drinks and a round of general rowdiness.

Tali, while tempted to trail after Garrus and the Commander, chose to hang back with Daniels and Donnelly and oversee the start of repairs to the Normandy's hull and drive core. Mordin and Legion were consumed by their research into the data pulled from the Collector base and couldn't be bothered with field trips at the moment. Samara mentioned she was going to visit someone in the apartments bordering the Gozu District, and Kasumi seemed content to curl up in the Observation Deck, immersing herself in the graybox she treasured so much.

Emerging from the central lift, Shepard marched down the length of the Shuttle Bay with Garrus, Jacob and Zaeed surrounding him. Passing Miranda, he extended his palms upward in a gesture of powerlessness, a wry grin playing across his mouth.

Miranda stood at the top of the Normandy's enormous cargo ramp, her arms crossed under her breasts, directing a withering glare toward the quartet of men. She rolled her eyes as Shepard and the others passed, shaking her head at his pathetic attempt to feign reluctance at being dragged away to the club. A moment later, the deck plates rattled beneath her feet and she was nearly knocked over as Grunt thundered past, chasing after the Commander and his entourage.

Then Thane appeared at her side, seemingly having had materialized out of thin air. Miranda sometimes found the assassin's stealthy abilities more than a little unnerving, but respected the drell tremendously. After all, the two of them weren't all that different, when judging their careers and activities from afar. He assured her that he'd direct a vigilant eye toward the Commander and the rest of his group and ensure they all made it back to the ship in one piece. She nodded her thanks and watched him stalk after the others.

For her own part, Miranda was perfectly content to remain onboard and avoid setting foot onto the filthy, depraved streets of Omega. There were few places in the known galaxy she disliked more than Aria's lawless kingdom.

She then retreated to the comfort and solitude of her office to continue the work of directing the ongoing repairs and attending to other ship's business. There, she took great pleasure in methodically freezing the various Cerberus accounts that had been allocated for the Lazarus Cell and redirecting hundreds of thousands of credits to new, untraceable accounts. Operating a vessel like the Normandy was tremendously expensive and they would need all the funds they could get their hands on to carry on their work and continue paying the crew.

As she sat at her desk, preparing to move on to the data acquired from the Collector base that EDI was busy deciphering, the chime for her office door sounded.

"Enter," Miranda called out absentmindedly, not bothering to look up from her monitor.

As Jack entered and approached the desk, she scrutinized the woman sitting on the other side with a resentful stare. She observed that Lawson was wearing the white and black, skintight outfit she often dressed in that showed off her ridiculously perfect body. However, she also noted that the Cerberus logo that typically adorned the upper left breast of her top had been removed.

"So it's true, then," Jack said, her voice like acid. "The number one Cerberus cheerleader has quit the team."

Miranda glanced up from her monitor, startled by Jack's harsh tone. She quickly composed herself and allowed her face to go blank, effectively concealing her shock.

She immediately noticed that Jack appeared significantly healthier than when they'd dragged her into the Med Bay the previous day. Given what the woman's state had been, Miranda couldn't help but feel a little impressed at her quick recovery. Still, the customary scornful expression Jack wore did little to conjure any genuine feelings of sympathy from the operative. Taking in a long, deliberate breath, she clasped her hands in her lap and leaned back in her chair. "Jack, how are you feeling?" she asked, trying to sound sincere.

"I'm fine," Jack said, glowering back at Miranda, annoyed at the suggestion of weakness.

"I'm glad to hear it," Miranda said evenly.

"Listen, I didn't come here to thank you for doing your fucking job back there on that base. I don't owe you shit!" Jack spat, leaning over Miranda's desk with one hand placed aggressively on the composite surface. "It was a fucking horror show in there and I was dealing some serious pain on those alien assholes, making it safe for you and the dog-legged chick to follow."

Why was this woman always yelling?

Miranda refused to take the bait, remaining seated and calm, looking back vacantly at the persistently angry woman. "Of course. I completely agree, Jack," she lied. This ungrateful child would be an ugly smear upon the floor of the Collector base if it hadn't been for her quick response—that is, if that Collector base floor hadn't been vaporized with the rest of that godforsaken place.

But she didn't want to waste any more of her time arguing with Jack. The mission was over and, admittedly, Subject Zero had played a significant role. But that was done now. Rather than continue to fight with the woman, Miranda preferred to devote her energies toward countless other more important tasks.

And frankly, she really didn't care about any supposed debt Jack might owe her. She just wanted the woman to go away.

"Good," Jack said. "I'm getting off this boat. It's been fun and all, but I've got other shit to do."

Oh thank god. Miranda had been hoping that the revolting woman would choose to leave soon after completing the mission. Jack made her feel uneasy in a number of ways. Not least of which were the long talks she and Shepard had shared over the last few months—many of which she had monitored from her office. Those interactions left her disturbed and feeling strange. Was she jealous?

"I see," Miranda said. "Well, in that case, you'll want your final payment for services rendered. I can transfer the funds to wherever you like."

"Good," Jack said, tossing a data pad on the desktop in front of Miranda. "The information's all there."

"Very well. Though, you know there's still quite a lot we can accomplish on the Normandy, even without Cerberus support. You could remain and continue on working with us. The Reapers are still an imminent threat." Miranda wasn't exactly sure why she'd chosen to extend the offer. Perhaps she knew that a fighter of Jack's caliber would be needed in the future. Maybe it was something else. Regardless, the words were out of her mouth before she knew it, hanging in the air between them.

"Oh please, princess, just shut the hell up. You don't want me here anymore than you want Jacob to stick around."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Miranda said icily. Jack had struck a nerve.

"It's pretty obvious," Jack said. "Now that you're shacking up with Shepard it's got to be a little awkward having the ex around, right?"

"Jacob is not my ex."

"Yeah, but you fucked him, right? That's still something."

Miranda shot to her feet, nearly toppling the chair behind her. "You're out of line, Jack."

"Relax, cheerleader," Jack said condescendingly. "I'm not spreading it around or anything. But maybe you should let Shepard know he's not the only one onboard that's had the pleasure of getting into those tight pants of yours."

"The Commander is well aware of my history with Jacob," she said through gritted teeth, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. She was fighting back the urge to flare her biotics and hurl the woman against her office door. She's just trying to get my blood up, she told herself. This was obviously some sort of defense mechanism Jack used when faced with uncomfortable realities, such as owing Miranda her life.

"Oh, right, well that's good, I guess," Jack said and shrugged. "I'm sure the three of you will have all kinds of laughs hanging out together. Anyway, thanks for paying me. I'm out." She then gave Miranda a patronizing, two-fingered salute, turned on her heel and strode out the door.

Miranda remained standing, seething with anger, as she stared ahead at the point in her office Jack had just vacated.

Jack stomped down the metallic utility stairwell to her hidey-hole within the Normandy's sub deck, her emotions raging. She paused on the last step and looked around the small space, a defiant scowl on her face.

When she had reluctantly come aboard the Normandy months ago, she chose this spot within the ship to make her own. It was out of the way of prying eyes and offered her the solitude she craved. The dark space provided a sense of comfort and security for her. Despite the constant hum of the drive core and the perpetual smell of harsh, industrial chemicals, Jack grew to think of her basement quarters as a sort of sanctuary. In fact, compared to many of the other unsavory places she'd been forced to endure, her little spot on the ship was a virtual paradise.

But now, she felt the urge to tear the place apart with her devastating biotic powers.

Early on in the mission, she had been drawn to the privacy this place afforded her. Except that Shepard never seemed to leave her alone for very long, constantly coming down to talk or ask questions about her life and experiences. It was infuriating.

At first, she tried to shock him with tales of some of the most heinous acts she'd committed throughout her years of piracy and mercenary work. She wanted to chase him away, keep him out of her personal space, and let the man know she was no one to be trifled with. But other than being a little incredulous over a few of the most fantastic events she detailed, he never seemed particularly appalled or repulsed enough to stop visiting. He was persistent with his attention and all together unaffected by her thorny exterior.

Jack couldn't figure him out. What did he want from her?

It wasn't sex. She had figured that out right off the bat. It was only the third occasion that he'd made his way down to visit her that she'd aggressively thrown herself at him, pulling her top off and grinding her body erotically against his. She'd taken hold of his face and locked him in a hungry, powerful kiss, her breath hot and her tongue probing within his mouth.

She could feel his involuntary arousal, but instead of taking advantage of the casual sex she was offering, he had firmly, but gently, removed her arms from around his neck and took a step back. He then leaned over and collected her discarded garments, handing them back to her.

In that moment, his face had revealed very little. He wasn't necessarily shocked or angry or even offended. But there was a clear look of disappointment in his eyes. That look nearly crushed Jack.

That was the last time she attempted to seduce the Commander so overtly. But it wasn't the last time he made his way down to her dark little hole to chat it up and urge her into thinking better about herself or her future. The man was relentless.

But Jack was damaged goods. A broken thing emotionally that would never again resemble a normal, well-adjusted woman. This much she knew. Hell, she even embraced it.

Normal was boring. Normal was vulnerable. Jack wanted to be neither.

And now it was time to leave her little sanctuary. She couldn't stand to stick around this place any longer—that much she was certain of. They'd gotten the job done and she'd been paid well for the work. She told herself this was no different than all the other merc contracts she'd fulfilled over the years.

But the voice inside her that never seemed to fail her—the one that always sounded the alarm when it was time to get out before the shit got too real—didn't seem to be crying out as loudly as she thought it ought to.

It's because this place felt like home and the people onboard like family, she thought to herself before she could think to squash the notion.

Fuck that.

Not when that arrogant bitch Lawson could claim some kind of debt from her. She wouldn't stand for that shit. God, she hated that woman. Everything she stood for made her sick, leaving her with a profound urge to paint the walls with her stupid, superior whore blood!

And she had the balls to go and fucking quit Cerberus.

Seeing her with Shepard made it even worse. They were doing their best to be discrete about the whole thing, but it was pretty fucking obvious. Jack saw it early on when Shepard would look at that bitch and flash that stupid Boy Scout grin he would get. And she knew they'd started sleeping together weeks ago. She could smell it on them.

Every day the Commander seemed to grow more and more captivated with the Cerberus cheerleader.

I mean, fuck! I get that she's got an amazing ass and her tits are about as perfect as tits come, but Jesus, can you give it a rest, Shepard?!

Jack sighed and sat down heavily on her cot, looking around the little cave that had been her home for the last half year.

Home. It did feel like that, didn't it?

But it was time to get the hell out of here before anything else uncomfortable happened.

She reached under the cot and retrieved the canvas, olive drab duffle bag she'd brought on board months ago and started shoving her meager possessions into the sack, determined to get off this ship without any more trouble or any awkward goodbyes.

Despite her best efforts, tears began to well up in her eyes. This Goddamn ship, she thought—it was the best home she'd ever had.

Fuck.

Meanwhile, in a distant corner of Omega, far away from the docked Normandy, a loan cloaked figure hastily navigated the crowded corridors of the Tuhi District.

The petite human woman strode ahead with uneasy steps, casting frequent looks over her shoulder, fearing pursuit from some unknown threat.

The numerous shops, bars and restaurants that lined the dimly lit ped-way were packed with all manner of customers. The places seemed to overflow with turians, krogans, batarians, vorcha, human, asari, and even a few scattered drell.

The station's rank as the half-forsaken detritus of the galaxy was displayed in sharp relief. The walkways were filthy, littered with crates and other debris piled about haphazardly. Thick clouds of smoke and steam seeped up from between the grates in the floor, emitting from some unseen industry below. And seemingly every few meters, thick streaks of foul-smelling, viscous lubricants leaked from the walls and ceiling.

Stumbling over the prone body of a batarian who was either drunk or had been knocked unconscious, she was startled by several vorcha huddled around a burning barrel. She recoiled as the fearsome looking creatures turned to glare at her, snarling menacingly.

Hurrying forward, she eventually came to a prominent stairwell that led downward to the entrance of a sub-level warehouse. Stopping at the top of the stairs, she quickly raised a small data pad to her eyes, checked the information on the display, and cautiously proceeded down the steps.

Arriving at the base of the staircase, she came to a locked doorway. Moving to the right of the heavy, metal doors, the woman glanced at the data pad once again and then rapidly punched in a series of characters into the key pad mounted on the wall. A moment later, the doors slowly slid open, revealing a cavernous, dark and hazy interior. Hesitating briefly at the opening, her skin prickling with foreboding, the woman quickly looked around and behind her one last time before scurrying inside.

Pausing a few meters inside the space, she peered farther into the gloomy interior, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She flinched as the heavy doors slid shut behind her, a resounding, metallic bang echoing within the hollow warehouse.

Recovering a degree of her vision, she looked rapidly from left to right, suddenly noticing the six imposing human men standing vigilantly along the walls to either side of her. They all wore nondescript, heavy black or dark green armor, partially concealed underneath long black cloaks, and wielded fearsome looking assault rifles. The woman felt herself shrink under their pitiless scrutiny.

Willing herself to gaze forward again, she made out a lone figure standing at the far end of the room. She took a long, steadying breath and then grudgingly advanced toward him.

Drawing to within a few feet of the man, she observed that he too wore a heavy cloak over jet-black, scalloped combat armor, a small, yellow Cerberus emblem standing out prominently upon the center of his breastplate. His long black, greasy hair fell messily around his Asian features and the cybernetic implants on his forehead and along the sides of his jaw were disturbingly obvious. And where his eyes should have been, dim yellow lights peered out through the thin slits of a tactical visor that appeared surgically attached to his face.

The woman looked up timidly to meet the man's stony gaze, her closely cropped red hair and delicate, lightly bronzed face visible under her hood. Her emerald green eyes were alive with fear and apprehension.

Kai Leng studied the small woman for a few moments before speaking in a harsh, callous tone. "Miss Chambers. The Illusive Man was pleased to learn that you had survived your ordeal on the Collector base. He has new orders for you."

Author's note:

There's just no way the Illusive Man lets Shepard and Miranda walk away that easily, right?

I love the bitchiness of both Jack and Miranda and feel like that should have been carried on further in the ME2 story arc. We may be saying goodbye to Jack soon for the time being, but I have more Miranda-Jack conflict and banter in store for the future. And Jack clearly has some complicated feelings for Shepard, but I think he views her more as a troubled little sister.

I'm going to wrap up this pit stop in Omega next chapter and then continue building toward a revamped Arrival mission. I was originally going to put all these Omega scenes in one chapter, but in the end opted to get some new content out there sooner rather than later. See you soon.

3/28/15 – More general editing completed. There wasn't quite as much revision with this chapter as there was with chapter three, but I did expand the opening scene with Shepard and Miranda a little bit, adding more playful dialogue.