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The High Cost of Perfection	By : Nicker Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 23057 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Mass Effect and the characters are owned by Bioware. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
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Miranda Lawson first walked onto the Normandy literally owning the place and ran the ship smoothly as the XO. Her presence was undeniable and her coldness the stuff of legend, although she was never rude or cruel to anyone undeserving. That would have been impractical. And everyone agreed that the ship’s daily life was ran efficiently, and disputes settled by her firm voice if needed. Few dared to argue with her. She did everything for the machine to work seamlessly, giving Shepard enough room and freedom to build the crew and focus on the important stuff. Like saving humanity.
Miranda Lawson walked off the Normandy for the last time, literally unnoticed, and she was sure, nobody would miss her. She left with less than when she came on board. Not exactly disgraced but certainly fallen. Few dared to speak to her, or look her in the eye. She did everything to avoid them, giving Shepard enough time to leave the ship and say farewell to the crew. He never came to visit her. They all said their goodbyes to each other, while Miranda sat in her room with a duffel bag at her leg that held all her possessions she would practically need, and waited, watching the video feed on her terminal with an empty gaze. The terminal showed the cargo bay cameras and the airlock. She was waiting for her chance to slip out like a shadow.
After a while, when the traffic of the crew ebbed, she stood, threw the bag over her shoulder and stepped out of the room that she was never really attached to. She won’t miss the place.
Jacob was waiting outside, arms folded across his chest, leaning against the elevator wall with a smile.

“You don’t get rid of me this easily, Miri.”
Miranda sighed, closing her eyes. She was trying to avoid this. She was actually surprised that Jacob waited her out. Yes, they worked together on the Lazarus Project, but drifted apart after Shepard woke up.
“Ah, Jacob. I should have know your sentimentality would get the better of you.”

Jacob laughed and pushed himself away from the wall, opening his arms as he stepped closer.

“Come here.”
Miranda stepped closer, awkwardly, glancing around to make sure nobody was there. She returned the embrace, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

“Take care of yourself, Miranda.”

“You, too.”

They parted, Jacob holding Miranda at arm’s length by her shoulder, looking into her eyes with deep concern.
“Are you sure you will be fine?”

Miranda lifted a hand and touched his cheek, smiling softly, closing her eyes.

“Don’t forget me, Jacob.”

She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and walked away, leaving Jacob standing at the elevators. He looked after her over his shoulder, shaking his head slowly with an amused smile.
They never saw each other again.
Miranda walked off the Normandy with a thoughtful expression, her eyes cast ahead, a faint smile on her face. She didn’t look back.
She passed through spaceport security without problems and found herself in the main hall, where all passengers from all the ships poured in. Before Miranda could decide where to start looking for a ride, an asari spaceport worker approached her.

“Miranda Lawson?”

Miranda frowned, quickly looking around.

“Who’s asking?”

The asari gave her a data chit, then promptly left, calling someone on her omnitool.
Miranda tapped the chit to her omnitool and the map of Nos Astra popped up with a route marked on it. Touching the location revealed that it was a nightclub at the edge of the party district. A small message appeared in the middle of the screen:

“Be there in 20 minutes - L.”
Miranda looked around again, scanning the crowd for anybody who might be watching her. There could have been anybody, standing around and waiting, inconspicuous. She stood there for a long minute, contemplating her options.
So Liara was on Illium. No doubt, making her move on Shepard already. She probably wanted to make sure Miranda was no longer a threat.
Miranda let out an exhausted sigh. She might as well go there, and tell that mad asari in the face that she was done, and Shepard was all hers, she didn’t care any more. Liara could not make it worse for her, and she won’t let the asari upset her. She wanted to move on.
She hailed a cab and dialed in the address of the street behind the nightclub. She switched to manual and floored the skycar, making a good time and arriving a few minutes early. She had enough time to stake out the place, hide her bag safely and walk up to the main entrance.
It was daytime and the club wouldn’t be open for business for another few hours, but the door was unlocked and faint music filtered out from the darkness. She stepped in, waited a few seconds for her eyes to adjust before going to the main bar area. Strip joints were all the same wherever one went in the galaxy. It was empty and dark, only a few lights around the cheesy decor. An asari was sitting at the counter of one of the dim bars, only a dark silhouette, but even before Miranda got closer, she knew it was Liara.
“Miranda.” Liara said, hearing her approach.

“Why are we meeting here, Liara?” Miranda asked, cutting right to the chase as she glanced around. This time she had a pretty good idea what she was walking into. She knew that Liara would keep changing the rules and no victory would be complete enough for her, so she prepared for anything.
“To celebrate.” Liara giggled, lifting two glasses, handing one to Miranda. She just glared at it but didn’t reach for it. Liara shrugged, drank hers and put the glass down.

“You won, Liara. He is all yours. Is this what you wanted to hear?”

“Mmmm, yes,” the asari replied, tilting her head. “But oddly, it’s not satisfying enough.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Miranda said flatly.
Liara laughed. “Not yet, anyway.”
She nodded to the shadows and two asaris emerged, flanking Miranda from behind.
Miranda looked at the thugs as they approached her. Eclipse mercenaries, probably. She could make a run for it, might even make it to the door. But then what? If she managed to escape, Liara could still decide to go after Oriana. No. She had to play this game one more time and hope to get out of it with minimal damage, so she could disappear on Liara’s terms. That would be the best chance that she would leave Miranda alone.
Liara nodded and the thugs grabbed her arms and twisted them behind her back.

Miranda glanced at the asaris. She could still try to free herself before it gets worse…

“Just let it go, Liara.”

“Oh, I will. But I need…” she searched for the word, staring at the ceiling, before locking her gaze with Miranda’s, “closure.”
Liara stepped closer, reaching out towards her with a dreamy expression and sunk her fingers into her hair, feeling the texture under her fingertips.

“You have lovely hair. Fascinating,” she rubbed her locks between her fingers with a thoughtful look. “He always cuts it so short… it’s stubby. But this… gorgeous. Like silk.”

Miranda pulled her head away as much as she could, dark locks slipping through blue fingers. Liara giggled, reaching after her again, tussling her hair, purring.
“I admire your genetical perfection. I really do,” Liara rambled on. “And you just reminded me, that you’re good at what you do.”
“I take that as a compliment.”
“Don’t. It means you are still a threat.” She almost looked at Miranda adoringly, eyes slightly unfocused as she was stroking her hair, brushing it back from her face, behind her ear. It made Miranda uncomfortable, anxiety creeping up on her. She let out a nervous laugh.

“Look at me. I’m not a threat to anyone. I just want to be left alone.” She struggled a bit in the asaris’ grip to straighten herself and shook her hair free. “What do you want now?” she asked quietly.
“I want to make sure you disappear,” Liara said, lifting a hand with palm up. One of the thugs produced a knife and put it in her hand. Miranda stared at it uneasily. Liara smiled and nodded, one of the asaris grabbing Miranda’s hair on the back of her head and hold her steady that made her hiss in pain. Liara grabbed a fistful of her hair, too and pulled, cutting it off at about third length with the blade.
Miranda winced in pain but managed to remain quiet. Liara lifted her hand to eye level and smiled at her as she opened her fingers and let her dark strands slowly fall.

“Asaris don’t have scissors, as you can imagine,” she chuckled. “So this is the best we could do. It won’t be… perfect, of course. But that’s the whole point.”
Liara continued to grab handfuls of Miranda’s hair while she went on, and cut it, feeling the texture of each lock in her hand. The other asaris helped by holding Miranda steady, while she struggled to ease the pain in her scalp, gritting her teeth, wincing and hissing from the pain. It was a sneaky kind of pain, sharp, spread out and leaving a slowly fading tingle, making her eyes water.
“A reminder, if you will. Don’t stand in the way of true perfection.” Liara continued. “Looks are not everything, you see. He and I, we are perfect souls for each other. Something you wouldn’t understand with your pathetic, mundane mind.”
Miranda growled, hiding her pain behind frustrated moans. She was forced to stare at the floor while they tilted her head forward, watching her hair cascade slowly to the ground, like specks of dust in a path of light. She was blinking tears of pain from her eyes, unable to stop them.
“This is my farewell gift to you, Miranda. Closing our little deal.” She chattered, lifting her head to look in her eyes. “I hope you appreciate it. I could have done worse things to you. Cut your pretty face, for example. My predecessor would have had you killed. Or hand you over to Cerberus. Be grateful that I stopped here.”
Miranda frowned and glared at her through narrowed eyes, tears streaking down her face. She took a shuddering breath as she tried to calm her nerves, but kept quiet, waiting. Her whole scalp was numb and her body was shivering from the intensity of the experience.
Liara stared into her eyes. “Stay away from him.”

“Just… stay away from Oriana,” Miranda growled.

“Good girl. That’s the idea,” Liara smiled warmly and cupped her cheek. Miranda yanked her head away.
Liara searched her face, making sure she got the message, sneered then turned away, walking towards the exit.
“What shall we do with her?” one of the asaris called after her.

“I don’t care. As long as you keep her… occupied for a while, it’s up to you,” she said over her shoulder. “I need a little head start. I will keep in touch!”
The asaris looked at each other, then at their prisoner and one of them scoffed.

“Come on, let’s accommodate our guest.”
They started dragging Miranda behind the stage, through empty corridors, past doors and down a set of stairs. Below the main level and the stage was a large dressing area with mirrors and racks of costumes, some more private dressers, lounges and storage rooms.
“What are we supposed to do with her?” the other asari asked when they were alone, leading their prisoner. She seemed less confident than her partner.

“Set her up here as a fixture. The easiest way to keep an eye on her.”

The other snorted. “Great, another competition.”

“Don’t worry. Look at the bright side. We can dump the pervs on them,” she gave a nudge to Miranda as they reached the bathrooms, “and cherry pick the rest.”
They stopped at the door to the bathroom, shoving Miranda in and letting her go.

“But all the clients want to try out the new wares,” the younger asari complained.

“Sheesh, relax! The good ones come back to us after they had their fun with the fresh meat. Most of them never last long anyway.”

“I still don’t like it. It’s less money for a few days.”

“Yeah, shut up and get her gear.”
The younger one sulkingly left, leaving Miranda alone with the older asari in the bathroom.

“I should have known Eclipse bitches double as strippers,” Miranda sneered after she regained her balance. She avoided looking in the mirrors over the sinks, and wondered how long she could do that. If she bowed her head, maybe a bit longer. Now that her hair didn’t hide her face, she couldn’t hide her expression, though.
The asari chuckled folding her arms across her chest.

“Jealous? Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Miranda wiped her face with the back of her hand, smearing the tears away.

“Come closer and I show you,” she hissed.
The asari scoffed. “Don’t test my patience, bitch. Make it easier for both of us and take off your clothes.”

“No.”

“You know, even if you get past two asaris, Liara will know you got away before you could reach your… girlfriend or whomever.”
Miranda knew it was true. She guessed that Liara would come up with something to keep an eye on here even after she left the Normandy, she just hoped she could dodge out of it somehow. She felt so tired of this whole game of wits.

“No,” she challenged the asari. It was time to test the boundaries of her new prison. It felt better to fight back knowing that these thugs were no threat to her sister.
The asari started to glow blue.

“I don’t have time for this shit, human. Undress!”

“No.” Miranda repeated almost in a sullen tone, like a child. She had the crazy look to go with it and with her new haircut she must have looked like a witch.
The asari snarled, losing her patience and sent Miranda flying across the bathroom, slamming her into the shower walls. The wind knocked out of her, Miranda sunk to the floor gasping for air.
“No,” she croaked, taunting.

“You have a death wish, bitch?” the asari hissed and waved with her hand, catching Miranda in an other aura of blue energy and slid her across the floor until she tumbled under the sinks.
Miranda tried to soften the impact with her arms, hissing in pain as her elbow and palms connected.

“No!” she said loud and clear, trying to get into a sitting position. She felt the yank again unable to turn into the direction of her flight path, slamming into another wall with her back.
This one was the most painful, making her yelp in pain.
“What the hell are you doing?!” the younger asari exclaimed as she arrived back with a bunch of clothes. “How could she work the bars if you give her bruises?!”
There was a bit of arguing, while the maiden managed to calm down her older colleague. Miranda used this time to crawl into a sitting position and fight the pain in her body, shaking her head to clear her thoughts.
Hands grabbed her roughly as the two started to yank off her clothes, not too subtly but apparently they were experienced at it, removing all articles without tearing them apart. She put up a little fight, not enough to warrant punishment, just to let them know she was not going to be easy.
“They always fight, don’t they?” the older asari snickered as they handled her. The younger just glared at her, clearly not in the mood.

“I’m telling you, picking up an extra girl is a bad idea. How will we explain this?”

“Just shut up and help me set her up, I’ll take care of it. With the money from that pureblood bitch and what she can bring us, we’ll be fine… There, get up!” This last part was meant for Miranda, who was left on the floor, naked and shivering, while the two asaris stood up and looked her over.
“Gotta admit, though. That’s some serious anatomy.” The matron chuckled, eyes flashing as Miranda slowly stood up.

The maiden tilted her head as she looked Miranda over, a mixture of curiousity and concern in her eyes.

“Hmm, nothing we can’t hide with a little medigel and makeup,” she muttered pointing at her bruises.
The matron looked at her partner and rolled her eyes. She stepped to Miranda and grabbed her by the elbow, yanking her around until she faced a mirror.

“Take a good look, bitch. This is what you are now,” the asari hissed, looking her over. “Give us any more trouble and you will think back at this image with fondness.”
She reached out her hand towards the maiden, who handed her the outfit she brought. The matron took it and pushed it into Miranda’s hands in front of her belly.

“Will you put this on or do we have to dress you up as well?”
Miranda looked at her distraught and shook her head, before turning her gaze back towards her mirror image. The matron snorted derisively and left her there.

“You’ve got five minutes,” she said before leaving her alone with the maiden in the doorway, standing guard.
Miranda was not listening by then, just automatically grabbed the clothes and held it to her stomach. She stared at the mirror with a haunted look of someone who lost something or somebody important to her. The woman looking back at her was a sorry sight.
Sure, her body was still impeccable, even with the bruises that would fade easily, and anybody would be lucky to have her. Except that something was gone, that confident grace, that presence that made everybody pay attention.
It wasn’t the hair, although it did look like a haystack, uneven, chaotic, crude, but that would grow back. Maybe Liara meant it as a humiliation, but Miranda couldn’t care less. It would grow back if she wanted to, it only meant something more to an asari, giving it more significance than it represented.
At least that’s what she thought, until now, as she lifted a hand dreamily and touched her hair. No, it wasn’t the ugliness and the shame that shook her. It was the way it highlighted her dull, bewildered eyes, the dark circles around it, her slightly sunken face. As if her hair suddenly represented how it felt inside and made it show on her face.
She was in a daze, mourning the woman that was lost somewhere along the way. She wished she could shed a few tears for her. Instead she found herself mechanically dressing up, putting on pantyhose, panties, bra, a pretty slutty outfit that she would have never worn by herself. She considered herself classier than this. But that was before.
She was still staring at her reflection when the maiden stepped up to her, holding out a glass of water and a pill.

“Here. This will help.” She offered softly. “My name is Nissea.”

Miranda slowly looked at her, just moving her eyes, then at the offered drink and pill. She reached for them and watched as that crazy-haired, scantily clad woman in the mirror lifted the pill to her mouth in slow motion and drank it down. The asari put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder and gently rubbed her skin.
Miranda turned towards the touch. It was more than comfort, it was cautious affection.

“It will be all right,” the maiden said with a soft gaze, taking the glass from her. “You’ll get used to it.”
Miranda looked at her and then back at her image. Yes, she thought. Once I get a little rest, clean my head, I can start working on a way out. It will be all right. But now she needed to pull herself together.
She tilted her head and checked out her reflection again. Yes, too sleazy for her taste, but still, she made it look hot. Even the hair was not that hopeless. With a little hairspray and a little wizardry, it could be even exotic, or wild.
As the drug started to kick in, she smiled faintly at her image. Yes. They will be all right.
* * *
The music was throbbing loudly, the bass vibrating in her chest, making every nearby object tremble. The tunes were hypnotic, tribal in their own way, sounds produced by nonexistent musical instruments. It made the whole world go blurry a bit as other sounds apparently had trouble spreading between the intense waves coming from the speakers. It felt a bit like she was underwater, even her vision narrowed down, foggy around the edges.
She moved and lived and breathed to the beat of music, following rhythm and tempo, hanging onto the metal bars between spins and jumps. Now she was alone in the cage, filling it with her movement as it hung in one corner of the bar, half above the mass of the crowd. At the beginning, Nissea was there, too, leading her into the cage with a slight bounce in her steps, her body already moving smoothly to the music. They stepped in the cage together and the asari started to move like she wanted to fuck her right there, snaking her body this way and that way, so that she had trouble following her at first.
Nissea was nice, though, helping her along, holding her hands, improvising the sexy moves, showing her how to catch the waves. Oh, the waves! After a while, she could feel them, almost see them in different colours, rippling through the air. Nissea was smiling and laughing, complimenting her as she got more and more into the groove. She stayed with her for a while, until both were confident that she had the moves down before leaving her alone in the cage. It was liberating, which she knew was ironic. It made her laugh. No, it’s not irony, it’s a paradox, silly! That just made her laugh even more.
She owned the crowd around her. People were subconsciously adapting their style to hers, like she was a relay of the beat emanating from the rumbling boxes. She smiled and laughed, watching the people around her with half-closed eyes. If she could almost see the waves of the music, she was definitely seeing the ripples her dancing made in the crowd. Sometimes she would look around and check out the other cages scattered around the place, hanging or standing on elevated platforms and the other girls dancing and dancing the night away. They were transmitters, channeling the energy of the musical waves.
She didn’t feel tired at all, even though she must have been doing this for hours. Sweat was an oily sheen on her perfectly smooth skin, highlighting her curves in all the right places, drawing many stares from the crowd. People were cheering her, trying to touch her which she easily avoided, laughing, and he got quite a few offers, not to mention the credit chits thrown at her feet. She was always nice to them, trying to make eye contact if possible, giving them a wink, a shake of her hip or a glance over her shoulder, but some wanted more. A few of them tried chatting her up, telling her they know her, yes, and that she shouldn’t be doing this, sure, and that they were on the same ship together, of course. One of them even guessed her name, but that was just pure luck, she thought. She quickly forgot about them.
After a while, her replacement arrived and she walked off, still upbeat, pleasantly tired. She knew she could do it for hours, but her legs would hurt like hell tomorrow. Nissea found her and lead her into a backroom lounge where a bunch of girls were giggling, holding drinks, talking to males of different species, all looking filthy rich. Somebody gave her a glass of cocktail and sat her down around a table. She was trying to follow the conversation, but her head was buzzing, still under the influence of the music. It was more quiet in the back but her ears were still ringing, and the booze was pleasantly warming her throat, slipping down easily—
—she woke to a jolt of pain radiating from her lap, pressure building up between her legs. The whole room was spinning and she had to make a heroic effort just to open her eyes. Everything was unfocused, but the pain increased, pushing her legs apart and then another jolt as something entered her.
She cried out louder, the shock making her eyes snap open and the blurry spots started to morph into more details, four orbs, ridges, bobbing up and down, the pain increasing. Ignoring the dizziness and focusing on the objects in front of her she could filter out the spinning room and she saw a batarian’s face looming above her. She was in a bed, lying on her back and a batarian was panting his stinky breath into her face, leaning closer with his tongue hanging out to lick her.
She grimaced, turning her face away and forced her hands to stop flailing, trying to push him away while the pain spread in her sex, the pressure increasing deeper inside her. When the batarian refused to budge, leaning in for a wet lick, she hit without thinking, a very basic and well-trained reflex, slamming the base of her palm up towards the batarian’s jaw. His sharp teeth snapped close, biting into his tongue, making his body jerk above her, that just sent another jolt of pain into her middle. She gritted her teeth, exhaling sharply as she slammed her forehead into the middle of the batarian’s face.
It worked, the client’s head snapping back, his hands pushing her down and himself away from her. The pressure stopped between her legs, leaving a throbbing pain behind and he tried to scream in pain. By this time, she was panicking, clawing at his chest and pushing him away. As soon as she had enough room, she pulled her knees up to her chest. She was surprised how flexible she was. Her feet connected with his chest, one-two-three rapid kicks sending him reeling back.
Next she straightened her leg, stabbing her heel up against his jaw. She was still wearing high-heeled shoes. She glared at the sight in surprise, not remembering when she put on heels and seeing how the sharp edge sank between the batarian’s chins.
He roared and fell off the bed, sticky, stinky blood spraying from his bitten tongue, broken nose ridge and punctured chin, drops showering her. She crawled backwards as fast as she could, falling off the bed on the other end, trying to hold onto the floor as the world kept spinning.
Her ears were still ringing, but the muffled sounds of agony reached her still as the batarian struggled with the pain. She heard him cursing and she tried to somehow turn towards him to be ready when he attacks, but he was in too much pain. After hearing him thrash wildly around, shouting hysterically, he stumbled out of the bedroom, which gave her enough time to stand on her hands and knees and look around.
The dizziness was relentlessly stirring up her senses, but after a lot of squinting she noticed the small bathroom through an open door. She made her way there, clinging onto everything she could, turning over chairs and sending some stuff tumbling off shelves and dressers.
She reached the sink and pulled herself onto trembling legs, opening the cold water and pushing her head under the running water.
Miranda gasped, the cold shocking her back to her senses. She suddenly remembered who she was and where she was the last time she remembered things.
There was a pill and a glass of water and by the time she realized she has been drugged, she was falling onto a couch in the dancers’ lounge. She should have seen that coming, she chided herself, it was so obvious. But she was distraught, and they caught her in a moment of weakness. She can’t afford to have one of those ever again.
Focusing on the task at hand she knew she needed to drink as much water as possible to counter the effect of any drug she was given, not to mention the alcohol she must have drunk. She started to drink from the tap, letting the cold water soak her scalp when she stopped to gasp for air.
She heard muffled noises from the corridor, shouting and shuffling and thuds and asari voices cursing. They got closer and closer, so Miranda hurried to drink more before they got to her, to regain some of her strength and have a fighting chance.
Before she could push herself up standing, however, a strong hand grabbed her hair, yanked her roughly out of the bathroom and sent her flying onto the bed.

“Good thing we left enough of the bitch’s hair to hold onto,” the asari matron hissed, the same one who held her down before.

“What is it with you and bathrooms?” Miranda mumbled as she tried to climb off the bed, blinking water from her eyes and shaking her head to clear her vision. Nissea was standing there on the other side of the bed with a bewildered glare, blocking Miranda’s way.
The other asari was already on top of Miranda, grabbing her throat lifting a fist to knock Miranda out.

“Wait! Not here!” Nissea shouted in a panicky voice. “Look at all the blood already!”

Miranda grasped the matron’s wrist with both hands, trying to look her in the eye.

“I’m gonna throw up,” she slurred, hoping they buy it.
The asari grimaced in disgust, letting go of her throat. She snarled as she looked around while Miranda gagged and croaked.

“How the hell did you clock him anyway?”

Miranda shrugged, standing wobbly on her feet, looking in her direction with heavy, unfocused eyes. “I’m that good.”

The asari shot a glance at her, surveying the bedroom with the bloody bedsheets. It didn’t look good indeed.
“You were supposed to drug her, Nissea!”

“I did! Just like you told me!” the maiden replied indignantly. Miranda expected her to start crying any second.
“She should have been out for a couple of hours more at least!” The asari snapped her head towards Miranda. “How the hell did she come off it?”

Miranda shrugged again, flippantly.

“I have exceptional metabolism.”

The matron glared at her again. “Let’s go out the back, quickly.”
Miranda stumbled, trying to fake a fall towards the asaris, but the matron caught her by the hair again.

“What’s it with asaris and hair?!” she hissed, gripping the wrist again to ease the pain.
The asari was not being gentle, even less so than before. She shoved and dragged and yanked Miranda out into the corridor, both of them almost falling over the batarian’s body, lying on the floor.
“What about him?!” Nissea asked on the verge of panic.

“Grab him and drag him out the back,” the other asari hissed and stormed ahead, pulling Miranda with her. Miranda could only see the floor as she was dragged along, turning and twisting corridors, and despite the pain and the roughness, she was glad she didn’t try to deal with them in the bedroom, because she would have never found the way out of this place.
The asari kicked open the stage entrance that opened into a back alley and growling with frustration, she shoved Miranda forward, who landed in a big pile of trash. While she crawled out, the asari slowly walked down a few steps to be on the street level, an arm’s reach from her. Or kicking distance, as it turned out, when a boot connected with Miranda’s stomach, sending her stumbling back.
“Fucking human bitch! Ruining our side business!” She hissed, jostling to get into a better position, waiting for Miranda to clamber to her hands and knees again. Miranda even managed to kneel up and slowly lift her head.
“You hit like a girl,” Miranda chuckled, still blinking away the pain. The asari got ready to kick again, Miranda weakly trying to lift her arms in defense, when the stage door rattled open again and Nissea emerged, pulling the batarian with her.
The matron turned towards her, and Nissea looked back with a miserable expression.

“I think he’s dead,” she whined.

“Well then bring him down here. We can kill two—”
The next second she was sliding down the wall two yards away, dead. The crackle of biotic energy flickered around Miranda’s fist, the faint smell of ozone filling the alley. Nissea froze, dropping the batarian’s legs in shock as she watched the other asari collapse bonelessly into a pile of trash, leaving a dark spot on the wall.
Miranda looked up at her from where she knelt, various pieces of debris in her hair, her torn bra and panties barely covering her body, and her eyes glowed bluer than her fist.

“This is what happens when a force equaling a hundred-ton train traveling at sixty miles an hour impacts a body and accelerates it to that speed in less than two yards’ distance, right into a concrete wall.” Miranda growled, her whole right arm glowing blue. She bared her teeth. “It’s basic physics, really.”
Nissea started running away from Miranda, towards the end of the alley. Miranda was ready to throw a ball of energy after her, when the asari simply let out a painful grunt and dropped to the ground in the middle of the street. The air shimmered around her and a shape became visible, pulling off a hood.
“They always try to run,” Kasumi chuckled, standing over the stunned asari.
Miranda let out a relieved sigh, collapsing back onto her heels, her biotics fading away.

“Good timing,” she nodded to the thief, just kneeling on the street until she could breathe and move again, hugging herself. “How long was I in there?”
“Half a day, maybe.” Kasumi said, pulling her gun and grabbing Nissea by the back of the neck with the other and prowled closer to Miranda. It was amazing, how the little thief could make even this look dangerous.
She shoved the still gasping and choking asari to the ground and pointed a gun at her while she looked over Miranda, tilting her head.

“You look sexy,” she remarked in a flat tone that earned her a glare from Miranda.

“We’ll talk about this later. First we need to get out of here,” Miranda looked around. “And clean up this mess. Do you have a car?” she asked, turning towards Nissea.
“I… yes.” Nissea groaned, risking a glance at Miranda before staring back at the gun pointed at her face. “It’s close by.”
Kasumi looked at Miranda who nodded with a sigh, rubbing her arms. The thief just flicked the gun at Nissea, signaling her to get up and show her the way. As soon as she was standing, Kasumi slipped behind her and pulled on her cloak. “No tricks,” she warned and they were off.
Miranda watched them go, rocking herself as she sat on her heels, sniffing and rubbing her nose with the back of her hand, surveying her situation. She was coming off the high of whatever drug they gave her, exhaustion and depression slowly kicking in, making her shiver and her hands tremble. She was only wearing that lingerie she was dancing in, less than decent on the streets of Nos Astra even if they were not torn. As it were, she had to hold one side of her bra in place.
And of course there was the dulling pain between her legs that made her sneer just thinking about it, and made her throat clench. ”No” she thought, not now. It’s just the drugs anyway. There will be time to flip out later.
Still, she laughed out bitterly, this is how low she fell. Into the gutter, shorn and scorned, among the trash without a speck of decency. She let out an exhausted sigh and crawled over to the dead asari, checking her belt and pockets, setting aside anything that could be useful, including her omnitool. She stopped to ponder for a few second then scoffed and with a shrug and still trembling hands, she began to unbutton the asari’s pants.
The way the asari’s spine was mushed into jelly and her ribs and shoulder shattered, purple blood oozing out from all the places where bone punctured the skin, Miranda gave up on salvaging the top she was wearing.
She dragged off the asaris boots and the patented leather pants and pulled them on. The pants was a decent fit, a bit tight at the hip but good enough on her thighs, and the boot was large enough for now. She even managed to fix her bra, making it just a little bit tighter and skimpier, pressing her breasts together, but at least better than it was before.
A skycar coasted slowly into the alley and stopped next to her. Nissea and Kasumi stepped out, the asari sullen and quiet, the thief looking at her appraisingly.
“You know, with this new look and hair, for a moment there I thought you were Jack.”

Miranda grimaced. “Very funny.”
“What now?” Kasumi asked.

Miranda looked around. “Is the batarian dead?” she asked Nissea.

The asari shrugged. “Probably. I don’t know.”

“Well, check it out then and throw him into one of the trash bins.” She nodded towards the dead asari. “Put her in the trunk.”

“I-Is she…”

“Completely.” Miranda nodded, adjusting the belt and strapping the omnitool to her wrist. “I wouldn’t hold her by the arms, though.”
While Nissea did the dirty work and handled the bodies with Miranda’s supervision, Kasumi got rid of the evidence, searching the batarian, spilling every kind of fluid she could find in the trash over the bloody spots. Miranda took great pleasure in seeing the batarian dumped unceremoniously into a trash container and she threw a couple of heavy items on top of the corpse herself for good measure.
The most unpleasant part was getting the other asari in the trunk, and Miranda mercifully allowed Nissea to use biotics to get her inside. Then the maiden retched and threw up a little. She looked pretty shaken. In the end, Kasumi offered to drive.
They got in and Miranda asked the thief to slowly coast down the alley.

“Stop,” Miranda said a hundred yards down the alley, and got out in front of a door that lead into a small, deserted shop. She came back with her duffel bag, feeling better, now that she had some of her possessions back.
To Nissea’s great chagrin, Miranda decided they should go to her apartment. Kasumi nodded with a satisfied smirk, pressed “HOME” and followed the directions on the navigator. It was a quiet drive, Nissea in the back seat, held at gunpoint by Miranda, who was checking the traffic and their prisoner sternly.
“Don’t you have spare clothes in that bag of yours?” Kasumi asked amused after a little while.

“Of course I do.”

“Then why don’t you put something on?”

Miranda laughed softly, rolling her eyes as she looked herself over. She pouted her lips appreciatively and glanced at the thief.

“Don’t know. Maybe I’m starting to like the Jack look” she said, giving a little shake to her upper body, making Kasumi giggle and shake her head.

“But Jack has smaller tits. Yours are distracting.”
“You just keep your eye on the road,” Miranda chided and a faint smile softened her expression as she looked out the window at the traffic. She wasn’t paying much attention, though, her eyes staring into space instead as she recalled her encounter with Jack. Apart from the nervousness at the beginning and the awkwardness at the end, those needy touches and fierce kisses and curious explorations were still making her warm inside. She hated to admit it, but that part felt good, even if the inevitable aftertaste of shame always followed, for betraying Shepard. It wasn’t her idea, but still, she could have stopped before it got out of control. Or maybe if he came down earlier—
Miranda closed her eyes: there it is, those intimate moments, ruined again in her mind. She hoped it would fade with time.
“We’re here,” Kasumi said, pulling her back to the present.
Miranda blinked a few times to clear her eyes and focus. “Good. Right. Let’s get inside.”
Nissea lived in a low-end, middle-class apartment complex, not too flashy, considering her line of work. She was either at the bottom of the ladder in Eclipse and the nightclub, or just smart enough to secure her future. They parked in the garage and took the elevator to the middle levels of the living towers.
Nissea remained quiet, still shaken by the events of the night, a bit cowed by this new Miranda that emerged, wearing her patron’s leather pants and a bra like a battle armor, gun in one hand, bag thrown over the other shoulder, those piercing, icy blue eyes staring at everything from her pale face, made all the more intimidating by the shock of unruly, black hair. It was evident, that with the quiet calm of the cloaked thief and the suffocating authority of the pale woman, Nissea was way out of her league.
Miranda marched into Nissea’s apartment like she owned the place, giving it a quick look with eyes narrowed, and threw her bag down in the living room.

“I’m going to take a long shower.” She declared, nodding to Kasumi. “Make her useful and we’ll have a little talk after.”
The thief nodded back, already busy searching the kitchen for food and drinks, while the asari stood in the middle of her own flat like a guest who should be grateful to be there at all.
As soon as Miranda closed the bathroom door behind her, she leaned her back against it, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. Now would be a good time to flip out, relieve some of the tension that was bottling up inside her. She gave it a minute of heavy breathing, but all it did was making her dizzy again. Once again, she managed to choke it down so much, that by the time she was safe, it was locked away in the back of her mind with the rest of her demons. She was afraid what was going to happen once those walls fall and it would all explode from her, like a great flood. It might drown her.
She looked up, head still bowed down and stared at her in a mirror again. That torn, ghastly woman that was ripped of everything she once was and stood naked in another bathroom was gone. Instead, she saw a fury from the myths, a dark-eyed, pale bitch with a raven black haystack of a hair, half-naked, her cold stare as savage as her looks.
Miranda smirked. Yes. Jack would love this.
She forced herself to move, shedding off her clothes and stepping into the shower, letting the hot water soak her, and she rubbed herself clean of the oil, the sweat, but mostly clean of the touch of the batarian on her until she felt her skin burning.
She emerged clean and composed, much more confident and relaxed than before, just missing that feeling of relief that comes after a proper breakdown. She could have used a little bit of not being on the edge.
“Did I miss anything?” she asked, tying the bathrobe belt around her waist, her head wrapped in a towel.

“Just a lot of awkward silence,” Kasumi shrugged. “There is some edible food on the kitchen counter. I’d stick to the fruits, though.”
Miranda nodded. Kasumi and Nissea were sitting in the living room across each other on a couch. Miranda looked them over and started to go through the drawers, closets, shelves and dressers, checking their content and threw anything she found valuable, clothes, underwear, shoes, sunglasses, headgear, into a large armchair. In the meantime, she was addressing the asari under the watchful eyes of Kasumi.
“I need your full attention, Nissea,” she said. “Are you listening closely?”

The asari nodded. She looked much more timid now, than when she held Miranda down and helped Liara cut her hair, and then dragged her downstairs and strip her, while bitching about how people would fuck Miranda instead of her. Right before she gave Miranda drugs. There was fear, and some remorse in her stance.
“You take your friend and bury her somewhere, where nobody will find her. You will then go back to work the club and the Eclipse like you normally would.” She glanced at the asari to see if she followed her. “If anybody asks about her…”

“Jenita,” Nissea said sullenly.

“I don’t care. You tell them that there was an argument with a batarian client, they got into a fight and that’s the last time you heard about her. If they find the batarian, they’ll think she killed him and went into hiding. You can pretend to be clueless. Got it?”
Nissea glared at her, but did not respond. Miranda stopped ransacking the asari’s wardrobe, strolled to the kitchen and started searching the fruit bowl while unwrapping the towel on her head and rubbed her hair dry.

“We have never met, and you don’t know what happened in that bedroom.”
Nissea looked at Miranda over the shoulder with surprise.

“I-I don’t understand.”
Miranda picked up a round, local fruit with a purple skin, sniffed it and strolled back into the living room, sitting down next to Kasumi and crossed her legs. Even in that bathrobe, with that haircut, she already had some of her old presence back. With the laconic thief by her side, who rested an elbow leisurely on the back of the couch, they started to look like leaders of a high-class gang.
Miranda bit into the fruit, careful not to let drops of the juice fall on the robe as she sucked on it before biting it off. She glanced at Kasumi from the corner of her eyes and let out an approving hum, before turning her attention back at Nissea.

“As far as you are concerned, I was never there.” She explained, licking her fingers.

“But, what if-what if she asks?”
Miranda raised an eyebrow, quickly putting the pieces together. Now she remembered Liara’s last words to the duo.

“Oh. Tell her whatever she wants to hear,” Miranda waved. “Everything is fine, I’m kept there locked in a room, dancing at night, fucking until dawn.”
Kasumi chuckled and Nissea blinked, shaking her head confused.

“Wh-why?”

“She led me there for a reason. So she would know where I am.”

“But what if she comes to visit?”

Miranda snorted. “She won’t.”
It was Kasumi’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“She won’t?”

Miranda shook her head. “She doesn’t really care. I’m a threat to her when it comes to… him. As long as she is close to him and I’m not, she doesn’t give a fuck. She’s so smitten, she’ll eventually forget about me.”
Kasumi grimaced.

“You sure about that.”

Miranda turned her attention back to Nissea, who was squirming in her place, hands clasped nervously between her knees.

“How does she struck you, Nissea?”

“Who, the pureblood?” The asari shrugged. “Self-absorbed. Spoiled. Powerful.”
Miranda nodded.

“Exactly.” She glanced at Kasumi. “Trust me, until she has her toy, she won’t care.”

The thief frowned.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you calling him a toy.”

Miranda sighed, closing her eyes and biting into the sweet fruit again.
“It how she treats him. I wouldn’t—” she shook her head, chewing on the flesh of the fruit for a bit and swallowed. “Never mind.” Focusing her attention at eating the fruit, Miranda continued. “That… ‘pureblood’ is even more powerful than you think, Nissea. You don’t want to cross her. Or disappoint her.” She glanced up at her. “She might check in from time to time, but she won’t care until you tell her what makes her happy. If she says let me go, you tell her it will be done and you let me know.”
Nissea stared at the table between them, her gaze absently trailing Miranda’s legs until they disappeared under the robe.

“What if I don’t?”

Miranda glanced at Kasumi and leaned forward, resting an elbow on her knee.

“Nissea. Apart from being an accessory to kidnap and human trafficking, and taking part in trying to humiliate me, and then drugging me, I know you tried to be nice to me, too.”
The asari looked up into her eyes with a faint glint of hope in her eyes.

“But if you don’t do as I tell you, my friend here will tip off your part in all this and frame you for the murder of… Jenita. I doubt you can get all the blood and DNA out of the upholstery of your car unless you burn it down. She will also lead them to the place where you will bury the body.” Nissea flinched, shrinking back into the couch.
“We may not be as powerful as Liara, but believe me, we can be a pain in the ass, too. If it wasn’t clear until now, you work for me now. If I call, you do what I tell you. If my friend here appears, you do what she tells you to do. With a little bit of luck, we will never see each other again. But we will keep an eye on you. Did I make myself clear?”
Nissea pondered about what she just heard, obviously running through the possibilities in her head. It was written on her face, that miserable expression when she realized that she was screwed either way. She let out a resigned sigh and nodded wordlessly.
Miranda finished the fruit, licked her fingers clean and stood up.

“Good girl.”
She nodded at Kasumi, going to the clothes she scavenged. She dropped the bathrobe on the floor and leisurely put on panties, a sports bra and the patented leather pants. She ran her hands along her hip and thighs, feeling the way it fit her body almost perfectly. She was getting attached to this item of clothing.
Nissea watched sheepishly as Miranda finished dressing up, put her stuff in the bag, ignoring her presence, and then simply walked out the door. Only Kasumi turned back from the doorway, giving the asari a playful glance before putting on her hood pointedly and simply vanished.
* * *
Outside the apartment complex they made their way to the closest avenue. When Kasumi tried to say something, Miranda lifted a hand to silence her.

“Just… wait. One more minute, please.” She called a cab on Jenita’s omnitool and shot a pleading glance at the thief.
Kasumi was curious enough to wait anyway, but apparently, there was even more to it than what she wanted to know. She flashed an all-knowing smile and waited silently, watching Miranda shift from one leg to another until the skycar landed.
They got in and Miranda called up the asari’s home address from her omnitool. She set it as a destination and as the skycar lifted up, she let out a long sigh and sunk into the chair, closing her eyes.
Kasumi squinted at her.

“I was about to say you started to remind me of the old Lawson back there.”

Miranda slowly shook her head, keeping her eyes closed and rubbing her head with one hand.

“She had to buy it.”
“Well, if it was an act, I bought it, too,” the thief chuckled, looking out the windscreen.

“I’m just so fucking tired,” Miranda sighed again. She forced her eyes open and blinked a few times, the moment of weakness gone, but Kasumi now knew that Miranda was just putting her game face back on, but she got a glimpse at the level of exhaustion behind the facade. “How did it go back there?”
Kasumi shrugged, picking up the real question.

“Well, it was a lot of emotional farewells. I was with the others when I saw you had a new destination. I came as soon as I could get out of the goodbyes. Sentimental bunch.”

Miranda chuckled softly.

“I know. But they deserve it.”
Kasumi nodded and continued.

“I figured out that you were in the club. Saw Liara leave, but I thought it would be too risky to go inside, so I waited. I thought I might sneak in after closing time.”
Miranda hummed in acknowledgment, staring out at the Nos Astra skyline.

“So what do you want to do now?” Kasumi asked.

“I need you to keep an eye on Nissea for a day or two and make sure she stays in line. After that, we can forget about her, I suppose.”

“No, I meant… all this,” the thief waved her hands, encompassing Miranda and the city below them.
Miranda pursed her lips and shrugged.

“Nothing. I disappear, and watch things from a distance, while dodging Cerberus, the Alliance and my father… and the Normandy, apparently.”

“This is not right,” Kasumi sounded upset. “You have enough evidence to convince Shepard. All the audio logs, files… Why not go to him?”

Miranda smiled sadly and turned her head towards Kasumi.
“I can’t. Not until I know Oriana will be safe. I can’t risk her life for foolish sentimentality.”

Kasumi scoffed.

“Being in love is a ‘foolish sentimentality’?”

“It is, if you think about it. It’s wonderful, but I won’t sacrifice my sister over it. She’s all I have left.”

“Yes, because the rest was taken from you. Doesn’t that make you mad?”

“Not any more.”
“So that’s it? You give up?”

“Not at all. I wouldn’t have collected all the evidence for that. No. I just need to wait for the right opportunity. Bide my time. Liara spent two years obsessing about bringing the Shadow Broker down, and apparently, over Shepard as well. I can be patient, too.”
“But you could get Oriana to safety. I could help with that, you know. By the time Liara realizes that she’s gone, there would be nothing she could do. Then you could go to Shepard.”
“I thought about that. But Oriana has a life. A family. She’s studying at a good university. If I take her away from that, she would lose everything, and we would have to be on the run, always. You know how that feels like. I worked hard to get her a normal life and I won’t let anything or anyone take it away from her.” Her last sentences were more of a threat, than a vow. If it came to Oriana, apparently it was Miranda Lawson versus the Galaxy.
Kasumi nodded, understanding. She was on the run all the time. She chose it and she enjoyed it, but she knew it was not for everyone. Miranda might be good on her own, but dragging somebody else into this life was very different. Kasumi could see how selfish it would be to possibly ruin her sister’s chances in life just so Miranda could be with Shepard and take petty revenge on Liara. Still, she had all the proof.
“I still think if you show this to Shepard, he would reject Liara, especially if she hurts your sister.”
Miranda put a gentle hand on Kasumi’s shoulder and smiled at her again.

“Kasumi. I really appreciate your sympathy. I do. But I thought this through. And if you heard everything, you know she doesn’t care about others. If she loses Shepard, she will harm everybody involved, out of spite. It would be a mess and it would ruin any chance of us having a relationship, so ultimately she would still win. No. I’m a big girl. I can weather out the storm and make my move at the right time.”
“What if it will be too late?”

“I will still have my sister. Maybe even have a part in her life, eventually.”

“No, I mean what if he chooses her. What if you go to him and he is already happy with Liara.”

Miranda turned her gaze towards the city lights, her hand absently fidgeting with the collar of the jacket she was wearing.
“If he is the man who I think he is, he will see through Liara’s games sooner or later. Maybe he hates me and moves on, but I have to believe he is smart enough not to be blinded by her.”

“What if he is?”

“Then I was wrong about him. Then he wouldn’t be worth fighting for.”
Kasumi pressed her lips together, frowning at the implications, staring out the window silently. She was pondering everything she knew from the records she listened to several times, the things Miranda went through so far and the things she would have to endure until she gets what she wants. It was overwhelming.

“I want to be there when you take that bitch down,” she said fiercely, staring ahead.

“You will be.” Miranda patted her hand. “Just take everything you have and all the stuff from today, make copies and keep them safe. One day, I will call and you will know what to do.”
Kasumi turned her head towards Miranda. That powerful Ice Queen was gone again, and she saw a very exhausted, frail woman in the other seat. And still, she was giving Kasumi an encouraging smile and squeezed her hand.
The skycar arrived at the destination, a more classy neighborhood with higher end housing. Miranda was getting ready to get out.

“So what happens now?”

Miranda shrugged. “I think I will enjoy the hospitality of Jenita’s apartment for a few days until I regroup and figure out my next step. Maybe I’ll keep paying the rent and make it a hideout for myself here. I don’t know.” She opened the door. “I will send over the rest of the files today.”
Kasumi nodded, pondering, while Miranda paid the fare with the asari’s omnitool. She hesitated, but as Miranda started to step out, she put a hand on her arm.
“Wait. I want to know.”

“What?”

“Why me?”

Miranda smiled.

“Which answer would you like to hear?”

“Both.”
Miranda nodded, furrowing her brow.

“Fair enough.” She paused for a second to collect her thoughts. “You were the most improbable person anybody would suspect that I would turn to for help. We have nothing in common, you are elusive, cannot be trusted, spying and stealing. Basically the exact opposite of me.” She flashed Kasumi an apologetic smile.
“But you also have the nerve and the attitude. You are curious. You would know what to do with a chance to eavesdrop on someone. And you know I wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave things lying around where you could find them.” Miranda chuckled. “If anybody would have the eyes to pick up the signals, it would be you.”
Kasumi smiled proudly. “It was so obvious.”

“For you, yes. But not for anybody else.”
“And the other reason?”

Miranda looked into her eyes, getting serious.

“Because you would understand. You have… insight into other people’s lives. You know how it feels like to love someone, who made you from a survivor into a living person. Someone who, for the first time, made you feel alive. And then lose him.” Kasumi nodded quietly, blinking. “I know I could trust you with this, to discover a secret and keep it safe until it is needed.”
Kasumi nodded, her eyes getting foggy. Of course she knew. She took a good look at Miranda, the changes in her all the more noticeable now. Changes that happened because of Shepard, no doubt. As she looked at her, a sense of fear and sorrow came over her.

“You will have a dark journey ahead of you, Miranda,” she declared, reaching out a hand. “I wish you all the best.”
Miranda smiled, took her hand and squeezed it gratefully.

“Thank you. For everything.”
Kasumi nodded silently as the door closed and the skycar started to lift away from the landing platform, Miranda standing there terribly alone and tiny, watching the last familiar face, the last tie she had to her past drift away into the darkness of the night. Kasumi had the feeling, that maybe this was the last time she saw Miranda.
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A/N: Thank you for the comments. I'll make time during the weekend to reply on the forums. Keep 'em coming.
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The High Cost of Perfection