A/N: I enjoyed writing this chapter because I could show off my awesome skills at swearing in Russian. Yay, go me!
Chapter 148 - Deconstruction Of A Legend
Days go by, one after another, all of them looking the same to Shepard. It is already late April of Year 2187, but looking outside, it is impossible to guess, the weather remains constant for many months, rain, sleet and temperatures barely above zero, only a shadow of pale sunlight shining through now and then, but most of the time it is depressingly grey and gloomy. Things have come to a strange standstill around them, it seems as if everyone trapped in the Sol System is waiting with bated breaths for the results of the mass relay testing. The first experiments with the probes have looked promising, even if the engineers on site have seen the need to perform further calibrations. Upon hearing this, Shepard had suggested asking Garrus for help, but the joke had gone over everyone's heads, sadly unappreciated.
Morgan and Liara had been feeling depressed after speaking separately with both Tali and Garrus, their friends appearing downcast and questioning the future of their relationship, Liara and Shepard trying to encourage them not to give up. Still, with tensions running high amongst the two races and turians still trying to find those responsible for the attacks on the quarian supply depot, Shepard could understand that it all made things very difficult for their closest friends. As for the situation on Earth, it seemed that for now, all the warring factions were content to keep the peace and quietly concentrate on rebuilding, also waiting for the relays to be repaired and for the alien fleets to return to their home systems and leave the humans alone on Earth where they could finally settle their scores for good. And Morgan had no illusion that the fighting would resume with increased intensity as soon as the majority of the Council fleets pulled out.
It is sometime around nine o'clock in the evening, the sky outside completely dark, when Shepard receives a simple text message on her omni-tool. 'Switch on the Alliance News Network. You won't like it, but you need to see it. Sorry, Miranda.'
"Fuck, what now?" Morgan shifts on the sofa, trying not to rouse Liara, curled up in the other corner and snoozing, but her efforts at remaining subtle fail spectacularly, the asari rearing her sleepy head and looking at her curiously.
"What's wrong, Morgan?" Liara asks, as Shepard finally switches the vid screen on and quickly selects the Alliance News Network. "Oh, goddess, it's one of those 'The Real Truth Behind The Reaper War' series? Please, switch it off, it is too upsetting."
"Yeah, I would, but Miranda says I need to watch this one," Morgan replies, watching that dark-haired bitch of a reporter that she has grown to despise to Udina-like levels of hatred, spinning another masterfully crafted tale of falsehoods, before announcing the next feature of the show, a private and enlightened interview with someone who has served with Commander Shepard for many years.
"Who of our friends would speak to this... this... this awful person!" Liara exclaims, looking confused and angry. "I can't imagine anyone-"
"Fuck," Morgan interrupts her with a curse. "Joker. Fuck... that's what he was trying to apologize for in the pub... oh god, Jeff, why? You hate me, okay, I get it, but... to obsess about it so much to resort to something like this?" Well, how could he not obsess about it? I took everything else that mattered to him away from his life.
Before they can say anything else, the images switch to give a brief introduction to Flight-Lieutenant Jeff Moreau and his short, yet brilliant career with the Alliance and many accolades he has earned due to his unmatched skill amongst the best helmsmen of the Alliance Fleet. Obviously, his little dance with Cerberus is never mentioned, but then again, Morgan did not expect it to be touched upon.
"You have served together with Commander Shepard since the earliest of days, even before she was nominated as the first human Spectre," the interviewer, one certain Diana Allers, begins her interrogation, immediately after a disembodied robotic voice has finished listing Joker's many achievements, Morgan having been completely unaware about some of them.
Joker merely nods to this first statement of the journalist. In the nondescript apartment, sitting almost knee to knee on a couch with the attractive raven-haired reporter, he looks very much ill at ease, and Morgan at least feels a little better from seeing that. "How would you describe her during those days?" Allers asks.
"Well... she was... quite fun to hang out with," Joker says, licking his lips nervously. "Idealistic, I guess. Very loyal to the Alliance. Though she didn't show a lot of deference for protocol back then either. And no, before you ask, just because her mother was an admiral with the Alliance, it didn't mean Shepard felt like she could get away with more than others would. She was pretty proper back in those days."
"How did her lack of respect for protocol manifest itself?" Allers prods him.
"Heh, you should have seen how she chewed out that creep Mikhailovich when he showed up to 'inspect' the Normandy," Joker chuckles. "But well... most of those she snarked at deserved it. Also... well, you know, intimate relationships on Alliance ships are kind of frowned up... shit rule if you ask me, but it is what it is... still, when we got our asari scientist onboard, Shepard just melted before her. I mean, Liara's a sweet girl and I wish them all the best, but... well, you'd think that since Shepard herself kept her asari girlfriend aboard, she'd be more open to others also trying to develop a relationship."
"You sounded bitter for a moment there, Jeff. Did Shepard do something to deny you or someone close to you from forming relationships, while she herself was consummating her romance with this asari?"
"...yes. There was someone in my life... she died in the war," Joker says, his hands shaking very badly as he reaches for a glass of water, spilling some of it awkwardly. "We fancied each other, but never acted on our feelings, because Shepard discouraged us both in private conversations, advising us against intimate relationship, urging us to remain friends."
"Why would she display such duplicity?" Allers asks.
"I don't know, man, maybe she honestly thought that it wouldn't be good for us, maybe she worried that it would interfere with our work, but... just felt damn unfair that she denied us something that she allowed herself to freely explore," Joker explains bitterly.
"I believe you were entitled to be upset, Jeff," Diana Allers smiles comfortingly. "The Commander is widely credited as the one who stopped the Reaper invasion and ended the cycle of extinction that had eradicated the Protheans and many other species before them. Our series of documentaries have cast some shadow on Shepard's achievements, but as an insider, someone who was with Shepard from the very start to the dramatic finale, how much of this success would you attribute to her, and how much was... something else, perhaps a carefully crafted PR campaign?"
"Well... I don't know anything about PR campaigns, but for sure, a lot of things are attributed to Shepard alone, but she had a whole team of specialists as skilled as Shepard herself working alongside her, and she couldn't have gotten the job done without them. Hell, she wouldn't have gotten the job done without me, flying her to Ilos and other deathtraps in style," Joker says. "Somehow the achievements of those serving alongside her seemed to fall by the wayside, though. Maybe because many of them were aliens, I don't know. I'm not sure Shepard tried to hog the glory intentionally... maybe some of it... I really can't say."
"So, would you say that her role in stopping the Reapers has been exaggerated?" Diana asks again.
"Hmm... maybe just a bit," Joker shrugs. "I mean, like I said, she didn't do it all herself. But on the other hand, we wouldn't have been able to do it without her either. So, I guess she's earned her status as a hero."
"Is she your hero, Jeff? Do you consider her to be a hero?" Allers presses further with this line of questioning.
"Yeah... I suppose I do. It's just that... heroes aren't necessarily always very nice people, you know? I learned that a bit too late with Shepard," Jeff says, his voice becoming bitter again.
"What happened to make you feel this way, Jeff?" Allers asks.
"Our mission on the quarian homeworld turned out a bit dicey. The Normandy got scratched here and there, and I copped a few bruises, nothing too serious. Still, Shepard stuck me in the medbay on the Alliance hospital fleet and got some quarian pilot to fly the Normandy... I don't know why, don't ask me, she has always loved aliens, right? It's just that it felt really unfair, I mean, I was flying her everywhere for three years, and then, on the eve of the final battle for Earth, she dumps me on the sidelines!" Joker turns towards the camera then, speaking as if he would be staring directly at Morgan, making her flinch, sitting on the sofa. "You stole that moment from me, Shepard. I'll never forgive you that, never!"
"Again, an understandable reaction to a questionable decision made by the much glorified Commander Shepard," Allers lectures condescendingly. "Much has been made regarding her lack of emotional ties to Earth, some going as far as to claim that she was never properly motivated to save Earth, instead more interested to aid the homeworlds of her alien friends.
What would you say to these claims, Jeff?"
"I don't know... maybe there's some truth to those. I mean, she was a spacer kid, right? Never saw Earth save a few times, how close could she really feel to people stuck here, eh?" Joker shrugs.
"I see... well, thank you for your time, Jeff, it was certainly an illuminating insight to hear these things from someone close to the fabled Commander Shepard," Diana Allers says, bringing the segment of the interview to an end. The scene shifts quickly, returning to Diana Allers, sitting in a live studio before another panel of 'experts' that Shepard has never seen or heard of before, addressing the audience. "Well, we thought that these questions deserved answers," she says, earning a chorus of cheers and applause from the audience. "So, we tracked down the famous Commander Shepard to get these answers... interestingly enough, we found her in a rather inebriated state in a North Yorkshire pub. Here is what she had to say when faced with a question whether she stopped the Reapers with those people fighting bravely on Earth foremost on her mind."
The image shifts to a recorded scene from the Black Swan, Morgan hearing herself say the words she had spoken in anger during her last visit there. "I certainly did not save Earth for pathetic examples of humankind like you," are her damning words, earning a chorus of boos and whistling from the audience in the background.
"Commander Shepard, people of Earth would be very upset to hear you speaking words like that," it is Allers, standing in the Black Swan as well, the fact that she is not even in the same frame with Morgan making it a clear footage splicing job, but she knows that most people will be in too much of a shock from her words to notice it.
"Hearing this makes me wish I had left this piss-hole for Reapers to chew on," those are her next words, and with that she can take no more. Liara lets out a startled yelp when an innocent datapad crashes into the mounted wall screen, shattering it to pieces, Shepard rising swiftly and heading towards the doors, Liara immediately following her, looking horrified, but finding it difficult to move as quickly as Morgan, hampered by her ever growing belly.
Liara catches up to her as she steps out on the porch, silent, not saying a word, just standing there in the dark, freezing rain pouring down on her. She feels the asari embracing her from behind, sensing the familiar, soothing presence of a calming meld beginning to spread at the back of her mind, Liara trying her best to relax Shepard and to remove her raging anger, but this time, Morgan does not want to let go of it, rising her mental barriers so swiftly and aggressively that Liara staggers back, looking a little stunned.
"I... I'm sorry, Morgan... I merely sought to help," she stutters, looking apologetic and overall miserable. "I cannot stand to see you suffering."
"It's alright, Liara. I know," Morgan replies, sparing a quick glance back at her bondmate. "But I don't want this to be taken away, not just now. Please. Go inside, you'll freeze out here and it might harm the baby. I will be with you shortly."
"...alright, Morgan," with some reluctance, Liara withdraws and returns inside, into the warmth of the house, leaving Shepard standing outside, getting whipped with the cold droplets of rain.
At first Morgan feels as if she has no coherent thoughts on her mind whatsoever, merely overwhelming sense of unfairness and ultimate betrayal. That they would cast me down... like this? After all I've done, after all that I've given up for them? Fucking bastards! And to think that I once almost considered the thought of settling here on Earth with Liara... hell, those bastards don't want me here, fine, they will not have me then! Not that... not that I could even live here in peace anymore, after they pulled that on me... gods, Jeff, I understand you were pissed off at me, I get it, but to pull this... hell, that Allers bitch wrapped him around her little finger so easily... I hope the payment was good, Jeff. Not that it made you happy... I saw that it didn't, I saw you wanted to take back every word you had said, but it was too late... damn, we have both been such idiots, and they played us, they destroyed us both...
Finally, after standing in the pouring rain for good ten minutes, she realizes that she has soaked to the bone and in danger of freezing, snapping out of her angry internal ranting, returning back inside, where a worried looking Liara is immediately at her side, her ever-caring bondmate passing her a towel, holding a stack of dry clothing in her hands.
"Liara?" Morgan asks, starting to pull off her unpleasantly wet clothes.
"Yes, Morgan?" the asari looks at her, worried and expectant.
"I want you to make the call to Lidanya, right here and right now. Tell her that we are accepting her offer."
"...what? Are you... serious?" Liara gasps.
"Yes. As soon as I've finished dressing, we will begin packing our stuff," Morgan says resolutely. "This is it, I am done with this place. We are leaving."
"We need to step up the game, Kasumi, there's not a lot of time left," Miranda speaks quietly, the two women taking a slow nightly walk through the windings paths of Studley Royal Park. "As soon as the Council fleets return home, Singh and Mayorov will pick up the fighting again. And the Terminus fleets will want out as well, they have realized long time ago that there is nothing worth holding onto on Earth. With them gone, I won't have anything left to shield the resistance forces with."
"So, you want to take out both the admirals? Hmm, tricky," Kasumi replies, thoughtful. "I must say, Miri, you pick the nicest places for our little walks," she adds, pointing at the massive and foreboding walls of the dark Fountains Abbey looming over them. "Nice that there's something that the Reapers haven't smashed to bits."
"Yes, I love finding untouched spots like this. I find my thoughts become much clearer, sharper, when I get to spend some time surrounded by history like this. There are a few amazing places up in Scotland that have remained intact, I'll take you there sometime soon," Miranda says, then stopping herself reluctantly. "Sadly, I digress. You are correct, we need to take out both Singh and Mayorov and bring the control over the Alliance solely in Hackett's hands. Then we can make a deal with him. If he's the man Shepard says he is, things should work out just fine."
"Yeah... just one small glitch. How do you actually plan to take those dastardly admirals out? They're probably really careful by now..."
"Well. Singh trusts me almost blindly, as I keep feeding him more intel than any other of his agents, pointing out insignificant resistance targets and more valuable Terminus sites," Miranda smiles in the dark. "I can get close enough to them both to shoot them, but... that would be bad for my own continued survival. And I'm not willing to take one for the team just yet."
"But you have a plan, right?" Kasumi asks hopefully. "You always have a plan."
"Funny how we all used to say the same about Shepard," Miranda chuckles.
"Well... you two actually have a lot in common," Kasumi remarks.
"I think I will take that as a compliment. But you're right, I do have a plan. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that an opportunity has presented itself. One of our people saw Admiral Mayorov leaving in a shuttle couple of hours ago on some kind of unexpected assignment. The agent managed to stick a tracer on the shuttle. Curiously enough, the admiral was brought to the Citadel."
"The Citadel? That opens up many interesting possibilities," Kasumi grins. "Any idea what he is doing there?"
"I have my suspicions that he might be seeking female companionship, so I pulled a more detailed file on him, covering the past decade. Did you know he has visited the asari consort on the Citadel four times?"
"Heh... the famous Sha'ira? Maybe he has developed a taste for the asari?"
"That's what I'm thinking, too. He could get human companionship here on Earth. But ever since the asari pulled out of their enclave, we don't see them down here anymore. You know, some of those maidens that went missing on Earth actually passed through his personal quarters before being shot in the head and buried in a shallow grave?"
"Despicable bastard," Kasumi snarls angrily. "So, he's on the Citadel right now... why are you still here? Why aren't you going after him?"
"I only just heard the news while I was on my way to meet up with you," Miranda replies, suddenly looking up to see the lights of a slowly approaching shuttle. "Then I had to organize a suitable transport, my tiny skycar is simply inadequate," she adds, pointing at the shuttle, carefully landing in a clearing some fifty yards ahead of them, the side-door to the co-pilot's seat slowly opening. "Also, I wanted to extend an invitation, in case you wanted to join me on the hunt."
"Hmm, tempting," Kasumi briefly chews on her painted bottom lip. "You can take care of it yourself, though, it's not about needing my help, right?"
"I can cope all by myself perfectly well, why? You had other plans?"
"Yeah. Jondum is minding the skycar nearby, waiting for me. I hear Geneva is beautiful this time of year."
"So they tell me. Such a shame, no?"
"To say I was upset would be... well, in our line of work, we cannot give way to emotions, right?" Kasumi asks, Miranda nodding quickly. "But it was damn hard to watch. I hear Shep took it hard, too... feel bad for her."
"Yes, she and Liara both left Bradford earlier today," Miranda speaks. "I understand they departed with no intentions of ever coming back. That broadcast was a big blow for us, and a huge boost for Singh and Mayorov... another reason why we need to end them, and with that, end this conflict."
"Well. I think the curtain is about to fall on the last episode of 'The Real Truth About The Reaper War'," Kasumi says meaningfully, her voice then catching a lighter note. "Oh, and Miri, I haven't forgotten about that saké, it was delightful and Bau liked it too. I'll see if I can score some Swiss chocolate for you in return, alright?"
"That would be just delightful, Kasumi," Miranda laughs in return. "Thank you, my friend."
Oh, how I have missed this place, Alliance News Network star reporter Diana Allers muses to herself, stepping out of the steaming shower, draped in a soft towel, a smaller one wrapped around her head forming a neat bundle. Her eyes fall across her vast apartment in Geneva, well over hundred square meters of luxurious space all to herself, a massive bedroom, comfortable study and a well furnished living room, far better than the barely palatable conditions she has had to suffer during her stay over in the British Isles, having to suffer the company of crude, dirty and uncultured marines.
She stops by the nightstand to pour herself a glass of white wine and break off several pieces of white chocolate, climbing into her royal-sized bed, resting contently on top of the sheets with the glass of wine in her hand. Diana switches on the computer console, leisurely beginning to browse the extranet for reactions to the latest episode of her massively successful show. The reaction is more flattering and emotional than she could have ever hoped for. There are a few aliens, all as one expressing support for Shepard and denouncing this shameful badmouthing of their hero, and some humans also remain loyal to Shepard, but the overwhelming majority are outraged about the Commander's outburst, demanding her to be stripped of all honors and military rank. And your decision to flee from Earth played right into my hands, Shepard, you thoughtless fool.
I wonder if she understands that it is nothing personal? I'm just doing my job, and I'm doing it well. If it wasn't me in this position, then someone else would have done the same, so it's not really my fault, is it now? Allers thinks lazily. Not that I really care what she thinks. She has no hope to outplay me in such a game, she's just a mean grunt who only knows how to shoot things.
Having read the comment of one poster, seriously laying into Flight-Lieutenant Moreau for speaking about his commanding officer behind her back and casting her in bad light, Allers briefly stops reading, her thoughts momentarily traveling back to Jeff. I wonder if I should feel bad for the way I treated him. But he was so mad at Shepard, he was desperately looking for ways to vent his anger, and I provided him with an outlet. I gave him what he thought he wanted... but only then did he realize that it wasn't what he really wanted or needed. But that is hardly my fault, now is it? He invited me to use him, so I did it.
Gods... the look in his eyes... he hated himself for what he had done, he hated me even more as we were making out. So broken... maybe I shouldn't have... but no, there can be no room for doubt. All this... she stops to look around the glorious apartment. All this was worth a little dirty work. In a few days, I will have forgotten all about him and his little personal drama. That's how we work, or we wouldn't be at the top of the rankings, right? Do whatever is required to reach your goal... hell, that sounds almost like something that Shepard would say... hilarious thought.
With the glass of wine empty, Diana briefly ponders pouring herself more of her favorite drink, but then, realizing how very sleepy she feels from just one glass, she decides against it. Chewing on the last bit of the chocolate, however, reminds her that she needs to brush her teeth and dress into her silk nightgown before retiring. She unwraps the towel cowering her hair, letting the jet-black hair flow freely, then loosening the towel that cowers her body, letting it drop on the floor as she reaches out for the nightgown, briefly stopping to admire her perfectly toned body in the full-body mirror on the wall. The fool dared to joke about my breasts... for that alone, I should not feel any guilt for making him suffer. He just doesn't understand that you can't get far in this business by looking unappealing without certain... enhancements.
Having pulled the nightgown over her head, Diana steps into the bathroom, approaching the mirror cabinet on the wall, briefly admiring her reflection before opening the cabinet doors and reaching in to grab her Cision toothbrush. As she closes the cabinet doors, however, she immediately realizes there is something deeply wrong with the reflection in the mirror. There is a dark, hooded shape standing behind her that hadn't been there before.
Alarmed, she opens her mouth to let out a scream of horror, but it dies in her mouth as a thin wire painfully cuts deep into her throat, crushing her windpipe and forcing her to choke uselessly as the hooded assailant holds her in an iron grip, Diana Allers flailing uselessly to break loose.
"You know, I usually abhor violence," her attacker speaks, sounding disturbingly girlish and cheerful. Diana has trouble making out the assailants face, obscured by the hood, even if the would-be assassin stands pressed against her back, cold sweat pouring down her struggling body.
"Oh, I just thought of something," the assassin says mirthfully, the garrote digging deeper in Diana's skin as she sees her flesh growing red and droplets of blood escaping the pierced skin. "You wouldn't happen to have some chocolate I could borrow?"
Tears streaming down her cheeks, Diana tries to speak, but the thin metallic wire does not allow her to, she can barely manage to nod, praying that the assassin will understand and be appeased, letting her live. "I think that was a 'yes'. Well, I guess that's all I really wanted to know. Too bad... like I said, I really dislike violence."
The garrote around her neck tightening and leaving her completely breathless makes Diana Allers struggle all the more harder, one last attempt to escape the surprisingly powerful and tight grip of the slim, feminine figure holding her, but there is no way to free herself, she is not nearly strong enough, even with her efforts fuelled by panic. "Oh, and if you wanted to know why..." is the last thing Diana Allers hears in this life. "Nobody does that to Shepard and gets away with it... sorry."
As the reporter's lifeless body topples to the floor, Kasumi steps away from the corpse, folding the garrote and pocketing it somewhere safe. For a while she looks down at the dead woman, then quickly retrieving something and placing it over the chest of Diana Allers. "Yes, I know, it's kind of silly, but I couldn't resist, even if I couldn't get a real one," she says, looking at the single red rose. "But knowing you, miss Allers, I think that a fake flower will be more fitting for you..."
Admiral Alexei Mayorov is walking down the streets of the Bachjret Ward, slowly heading towards the docking bays where his pilot is awaiting him in one of the Alliance shuttles. This is his first time on the Citadel after the Reaper attack, and he cannot help but to notice how quiet it appears now even during the rush hours, compared to how he remembers the place. I rather like it more now, even if the lack of crowds makes it more difficult to maintain anonymity, he thinks. Not that anyone would recognize me here, in civilian clothing.
The pause in fighting on Earth as everyone is waiting to see whether the relay will be declared operational or not, has suited Admiral Mayorov just fine. The only drawback is that after the daring asari commando attack on the Gobi Desert supply depot, Councilor Tevos has ordered her people to return to the asari fleets, cutting off the supply of the only thing that the asari are good for as far as Alexei Mayorov is concerned, bestowing sexual favors. With his supply of willing and sometimes less than willing asari whores dried up, this break in fighting provides him with the perfect opportunity of indulging in his little... hobby, that fortunately he has managed to keep hidden from his fellow admirals.
Several years ago, thanks to one Officer Harkin of the C-Sec, Mayorov had obtained a list of the asari stationed on the Citadel and willing to provide companionship to wealthy and influential people like him. Now, upon his arrival to the Citadel, he had made discreet inquiries about these asari, much to his relief discovering that at least a few from his old mistresses are still on the station, and willing to provide any services he would request.
The hours had flown by in the company of his favorite plaything, and Mayorov had been reluctant to part with his mistress, leaving her behind with great reluctance, while knowing that prolonged absence from Earth would invite questions that he certainly did not feel like answering. Well, maybe that ceasefire will hold up a few more weeks and I can take some more trips up here like this one, he tells himself, a satisfied smirk on his face. And the Citadel isn't going anywhere for a few more years at the least, so my pets will remain here long enough to let me have all the fun I want...
The shuttle finally comes into his view and he increases his pace, catching himself worrying that someone might still recognize him and begin to inquire about his reasons for being here. Laughing off these foolish concerns, Mayorov gets into the comfy luxury compartment of his personalized shuttle, directly behind the pilot's seat, remarking with some surprise that Lieutenant Kravchenko has for once remained awake while waiting for him.
"Take us back home, Alyosha," he tells the pilot, receiving a surprisingly swift nod in reply as the shuttle slowly lifts off from the pad and begins to speed through the access corridors towards the Presidium. At some point, Mayorov begins to feel as if the shuttle is taking inadequately long time to get to the Presidium, and Kravchenko's unusual silence also feels a little disturbing. "You are awfully quiet this evening, my friend," he finally says, aiming to break the silence.
"That's because I'm not who you think I am," a woman's voice replies, startling Mayorov. "I believe Lieutenant Kravchenko is currently enriching the keeper protein vats in the sub-levels of the Citadel."
"Who the hell are you?" Mayorov shouts angrily, deeply regretting the decision to leave his weapon behind. "I demand that you land this shuttle immediately!"
"Oh, I believe we have met before. Even if we weren't properly introduced," the woman turns her head towards him and now he does recognize her, having seen her now and then hanging around Singh's HQ. "Miranda Lawson, pleased to make your acquaintance."
"Is this one of Singh's sick little jokes?" Mayorov demands. "I know you're working for him!"
"Well, that's where you're wrong, Admiral," Miranda chuckles, opening the doors of the shuttle as it begins to accelerate. "I actually don't work for Singh. I work for the resistance." And with that, she dives out of the shuttle, her biotics gracefully and safely levitating the raven-haired woman down to a platform below, as the shuttle speeds towards a support construction of the Citadel's inner ring.
"Bliad!" Mayorov yells, swearing angrily in his mother-tongue, frantically trying to squeeze into the pilot's seat and gain access to the shuttle controls, but he is far too slow and the controls are hacked and not responding to his commands. "Sooka yebanaya, pomri-" his ranting ends when the shuttle crashes into the support beam and disintegrates in a fiery explosion, killing him instantly.
A few levels below him, Miranda Lawson allows herself a small smile as she casually flips around on her heel and walks away, her task completed.