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The High Cost of Perfection	By : Nicker Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 23046 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Mass Effect and the characters are owned by Bioware. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
A/N: This was an idea that started with a picture and a plot discussion on the kmeme and it haunted me for days until I gave up and started to write it. It made me miserable and the only way to get rid of it was to write it down. It was my biggest challenge so far. I can only hope it was worth it. This will have seven chapters in total.

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CHAPTER ONE: BREAK UP
“So this is it? Really?” Shepard said in a flat tone, coming to a conclusion that he was skeptical about. There was no emotion in his voice, only his gestures spoke of defeat.

“Yes,” Miranda said firmly. As firmly as she could, keeping it short, so her voice would not quiver. She kept her expression ice cold, just as it was expected of her. As everybody expected of her.

Shepard stared at the floor, elbows resting on his knees as he sat on the couch in Miranda’s quarters. He was way past dumbfounded.

“Miranda,” he tried again, that same reasoning voice that talked down Saren, that convinced asari, krogan, salarian, everybody in the whole goddamn galaxy to see things his way. And it was not working on Miranda Lawson. “There must be something else. You’re smart. And this… this is…” he shook his head, his earlier frustration returning. “It’s just stupid.”
Miranda shrugged. She was screaming inside. She had been screaming, sobbing, begging and arguing in her mind, agreeing with everything Shepard said and wanted to confess that these were all lies. Not the good kind of lies. She could come up with those, although she was reluctant to use them with Shepard. He had the habit of seeing through it, not by her tells - she had none - but simply with sheer logic and intuition.
She had to weave the worst kind of lie, the one meant to be reprehensible, to make someone loathe the other.

“It is what it is, Shepard. We are even. Both of us got what we needed–”

“I didn’t!” Shepard hissed, anger born of frustration boiling beneath the surface. “And I thought you needed more, too.”

“Well, I did not…”

Shepard lifted a hand to shut her up and shook his head.

“Don’t give me this bullshit, Miranda. I know you. At least, I thought I knew you... Seriously? An itch to scratch?! That’s the best you could come up with? Where are we? In high school?!”

Miranda pressed her lips thin, hiding her pain behind a frown, to stop the tears. You have no idea! she screamed in her mind.
She could have come up with something so much better and plausible, that would make this less painful, at least for Shepard, and Miranda could hope that one day, after this is all over, she could fix it. But that was the problem: She had to make it painful. She had to hurt the only man in the whole universe, whose opinion was important to her. She could deal with the hatred, the disdain and the jealousy of the crew. She just couldn’t deal with this.
It could have been easy: “We cannot be together. You have to get back to the Alliance and I can’t. You have a galaxy to save and you don’t need the stigma of a Cerberus agent. They wouldn’t let us be together anyway. I’m letting you go, because I can’t follow you where you need to go. Besides, I can’t give you children…” She bit the inside of her cheek to chase the thought away and return to the unavoidable tension in the room.
“What do you want me to say?” she croaked.

Shepard scoffed.

“I don’t believe this!” he lifted a hand to rub his palm across his short stubble of a hair, a gesture of frustration she knew so well. “I don’t know, Miranda. Something less… childish. Something that makes sense.”

He looked up at her from where he sat, Miranda leaning against her desk, standing straight, arms folded across her chest. Quite a defensive posture, but she had to hide her trembling hands somehow.

“Look me in the eye, Miranda and say that you don’t love me any more. That this was just a heat of the moment thing. A fucking stress relief. Say it to my eyes and mean it.”
Miranda kept quiet. She really hoped it would not come to this. She threw everything in the book at him, avoiding the self-sacrificing clichés, the merciful lies that would have worked on him. She went through her playbook using all the stuff that worked on many men and even women she had to manipulate during her time with Cerberus.
The only problem was, that Shepard read people too damn well. To his credit, he invested a lot of time to get to know Miranda, to melt the ice, to get a human moment from her. And she melted all right, talking about her life, her father, her sister and he helped her getting Oriana to safety. He knew her too well already to know that after all that time, even their little romp on the engineering deck was more than simple stress relief. He knew she opened up too much for it to be a one night stand.
And here she was, crashing it into the ground. She wanted to die.

“Well?” Shepard asked, like an annoyed teacher asking the unprepared student. Miranda shuddered.

“It was a one night stand, John. It meant nothing more. I don’t share your feelings.”

Shepard glared up at her with an expressionless face but she could very well see it in his eyes that she broke something in him. She pressed her lips thinner and her frown deepened. She could not cry. She can’t break down now. It was almost over.
“Well,” Shepard said quietly, tearing his gaze away. He slowly stood up, stretching his neck and grimacing as he stared right through Miranda. “It seems like I overestimated you, Miranda. I am sorry I did not meet your high standards.” He looked at her, his piercing gaze looking right into her, freezing her in place. It was a stone cold stare, one she could not remember ever seeing on his face.
“Well, I expect you will continue to fulfill your duties as an XO without any problems and this will not affect your performance. You will remain in this position until we complete this last run. After that, when we reach Alliance space, you will leave the ship with all crew not wishing to return to Earth.”

Miranda nodded silently.

“I didn’t hear you,” Shepard warned.

“Yes, commander,” Miranda said, barely above whisper.

“As you were.” Shepard said, already staring ahead, and left without another word.
Miranda waited until the door closed behind him before slowly sinking to the floor gasping for air soundlessly, all the pent up tension leaving her exhausted, arms and legs trembling. She pulled up her knees and rested her forehead on them, trying to cry, to sob, to gasp, to scream, anything but the silence, but even her voice failed her. She was paralyzed. The tension in her chest was threatening to burst her ribcage open, and she had trouble taking deep breaths.
The communicator’s beep shook her from her trance. She didn’t know how much time had passed. The communicator beeped relentlessly, the caller apparently patient. Miranda knew who it would be and she didn’t want to answer the call, but she had to. If she takes too long to answer or let it ring out, it would just show weakness and it would show how much it hurt her.
She crawled up into her chair, shook her head to brush her hair back, quickly wiped the moisture from her eyes and tapped the receive button. Liara T’soni’s face popped up on her screen and Miranda almost snarled at the image. The asari was smiling cheerfully, eyes flashing in excitement.
“Did you get what you wanted?” Miranda said grudgingly.

Liara frowned in mock disapproval. “A bit bristly, aren’t we? Cutting right to the chase, no pleasantries… Tsk, tsk.” She shook her head and then smiled warmly. “I heard everything. You did splendidly, Miranda. Did it exactly the way I wanted to. Broke poor John’s heart.” She wiggled a finger at her, a very human gesture, so grotesque from an asari. “You did your part. When you arrive with Feron, come and see me and we’ll finalize our deal. I’ll send you the details later.”

And with that, she broke the connection.
Miranda Lawson stared at the screen with an empty gaze, feeling utterly powerless and still trying to make sense of it all, reflecting back on the last few days. She didn’t even try to figure out, where she made a mistake, what she did wrong. She could not have expected this. There was nothing that she could have done. It was as simple as that.
The month started so good. After the Collector Base and breaking ties with Cerberus, they were on their own, deciding on their next step, and she felt giddy from just being alive. They survived, they were free, and Shepard was there. They needed each other’s comfort after all this, to feel and know everything will be all right.
The morale was boosted even more, when they took down the Shadow Broker and installed Liara as the new one. It was a great win for everybody. Miranda was genuinely happy for Liara. They had a powerful ally… or so Miranda thought. She kept staring at the blank screen and snorted softly at the memory.
Shepard got called away on a super-secret assignment, at the personal request of Admiral Hackett. Shepard felt obligated to do it, despite Miranda’s misgivings, but off he went to god knows where. The Normandy was docked at Illium, undergoing repairs and replenishing supplies, that kept Miranda blissfully busy and with little time to worry about Shepard. And then came the call from Liara.
Miranda agreed to meet with her, eager to share information and have somebody to talk to. She wasn’t exactly isolated on the Normandy, but there were things she didn’t want to discuss with Kelly or Jacob.

Liara was all charming, offering wine, showing her around in her luxurious apartment in a classy district of Nos Astra. It was going well. And then just as casually as someone would ask for a small favor, Liara told Miranda to break up with Shepard.
Miranda was dumbfounded, almost spilling the expensive wine on the carpet. She couldn’t believe her ears. Liara went on. It was obvious she prepared well for her monologue, and by god, she was very thorough. She knew everything. It was barely a few weeks since she took over the Shadow Broker’s vast network and she was already using it to her full advantage.
At first, Liara listed a couple of sensitive ops Miranda did while working for Cerberus, that would make her look really bad in front of Shepard. Miranda brushed it off, saying that that kind of blackmail wouldn’t work. She would confess them to Shepard and would make him understand those were different times and how much has changed since then. She didn’t tell Liara, but she knew John would need no convincing from her, that he would see it himself anyway. As an N7, he was no stranger to the concept of black ops.
Besides, Miranda struck back, what was keeping her from telling these to Shepard herself? She should do the dirty work of trying to break them up.
Liara didn’t miss a beat explaining how Shepard was meant to be with her so she could not look bad in his eyes by breaking them up herself. Before Miranda could interject, she started rambling on that ever since they first met on Therum and that first meld on the Normandy she knew that they were perfect for each other. She explained with grand words how that prothean spark the beacon instilled in him was a sign, that she, as the foremost mind in prothean history need to complete him and bring about a new golden age. Miranda wanted to laugh at these fairytale sentiments, but she had to remind herself that she was talking to a being who could live for a thousand years, was already over a hundred years old, and she just inherited the throne of the most powerful information network in the known galaxy.
But then Liara quickly switched to a painfully shallow explanation that given Shepard’s importance and her asari genes, they were the ideal match, and that they would create the strongest dynasty in the Galaxy. She took the opportunity to rub it into Miranda’s face that she knew about her infertility. It was about perfection. For Liara, the perfect life meant being at Shepard’s side and supporting him, making them powerful. In her world, there was no other way to be.
How this became her obsession, Miranda could only guess. At 106 years old, Liara was barely a teenager by asari standards, easily infatuated with hobbies like the protheans, or people representing her dream life. Idolizing Shepard seemed logical in a self-centered world of a teenage girl. It didn’t matter what Shepard wanted, because even if he didn’t see things her way, she would convince him. She loved him and he would love her back and he was smart enough to understand eventually.
Miranda was incredulous. She knew this type from high school and college, but it was still strange to see it in a 100-year old asari scientist. Granted, she didn’t have too much social life either, just like all the nerdy girls, and that included Miranda, too. Added to the mix was the “I saw him first” syndrome, and Miranda suddenly felt herself like a member of the cheerleader squad who had a crush on the same football player stud that the head cheerleader chose for herself. At this point, she could not contain her laughter any more. She saw the irony in the cheerleader analogy, and Jack would probably get a kick out of it. Miranda Lawson was being out-cheerleadered…
Liara didn’t appreciate the laughter, though. She took it as mockery and she quickly became furious and quickly skipped the rest of her prepared monologue and pulled out her strongest, and frankly, her only real card: Oriana.
Miranda kind of suspected that this was up in the air, but she really hoped Liara would not sink that low. She was wrong. Liara T’soni, scholar and information broker was so infatuated with love that she actually threatened to kill Miranda’s sister if she did not back off. It didn’t surprise Miranda, but it did hurt. Her gradual admiration of the asari’s knowledge and personality completely evaporated, her faith in people in general was crumbling fast.
Miranda also knew that at that moment she lost the battle and quite possibly she would lose the war, too. Any hope of appealing to Liara’s intellect and empathy was gone. She did one last desperate attempt to convince Liara that this was not the way to earn Shepard’s love, and it would not be the same. It didn’t help. It also didn’t work when Miranda tried to appeal to her vanity, saying that she will always be a replacement, a second choice for Shepard. Oddly enough, Liara was okay with that. She was content with being only a runner-up, a rebound, if it meant his arms around her. In any other circumstance, Miranda would find this bit of information about the asari’s self-esteem and ego interesting, but at that moment it was useless to her.
It only took a couple of months for the power to corrupt Liara. Days and weeks alone with all that data at her fingertips, looking up familiar names, and a glimpse to see, what can she achieve with this information. Sure, at first, it was probably all about fighting the Reapers, but that nagging feeling must have won over, to check out the Normandy crew and see her chance of getting her love back.
Liara was not patient any more and she quickly ended the argument with one little sentence that held every bit of information Miranda needed. “Ask yourself this question, Miranda: Does it worth fighting me over him and risking everything you worked for in the past eighteen years?”

And Miranda understood. Any attempt at winning Shepard back would put Oriana at risk.
This was the difference between their conflict and your run-of-the-mill high school rivalry: Miranda spent her teenage years between the richest, the most elite students Earth had to offer. Every girl was powerful. Most of them spoiled. But with them, Miranda was on equal ground. She had nothing to lose, the only good thing about her father was the family name and power which made her equal by default and superior to them by intellect. She could handle those girls, and most of the time, she would just let them win the unimportant battles. They were insignificant.
Liara T’soni was different, though. She was the Queen Bitch of queen bitches, she was the head cheerleader who had the most power in the whole world. It would still not be enough to beat Miranda Lawson, but the mere thought of the power at Liara’s fingertips with which she could harm Oriana was staggering. The only victory she could achieve at this moment was to keep Oriana alive, and bide her time and maybe after the Reaper War was over, she would go on the same quest that Liara went on two years ago: to find the Shadow Broker and make her pay for endangering the life of someone she cared about.
So there she was, the Ice Queen Miranda Lawson, staring at a blank screen with a blank face and even tears abandoned her. All that bottled up tension, and the only effect it had was that the strength left her limbs. She was unable to think or move for a long time, before her old reflexes kicked in. She took a deep breath, pulled herself straight and opened her terminal.

Before she could start typing though, she stopped and looked around, narrowing her eyes. She glared at every nook and cranny of her office, unmoving, like a deer caught in the headlights. Every object was suspicious, every shadow a threat… She shook her head. This was pointless.
In the end she forced herself to stand up, move her limbs and make it to the showers. It took all her willpower to get there. She stood under a rush of steaming hot water until her skin turned pink, hoping that the water would wash away at least some of the pain. It didn’t, of course and she had to stop at one point, before she used up all the water. Besides, she had to pull herself together. It was important to keep up appearances, run the ship as usual and not let the crew feel anything of the tension. They would find out of course, faster than she preferred, so there will be whisperings behind her back. Again.
She stopped by the canteen and stocked up on food and drink, deciding it would be best to spend most of her time in her quarters for the next couple of days. She also took a few things from the ship’s storage before locking herself in her room.

She more or less stuck to her plan, only emerging to take a shower or to work out when nobody was around, and during the day cycle only when she was called to handle something ship-related, which was scarce now that they managed to fix most of the damage and they were not in a rush.
Loneliness was not exactly new to her. She was alone all her life. In school, where her father forbid her to make friends. In Cerberus she had colleagues, but she wouldn’t call them friends. The Illusive Man kept his distance, Jacob came late and was a welcome distraction, but it never went too deep. She worked alone, even when leading the Lazarus team. She was OK with that, until Shepard woke up and persistently tried to form a real connection with her. And for a little while, for a few months she finally felt like she wasn’t alone. She slowly came to trust and feel… something.
Betrayal was familiar as well. Niket was a disappointment, really. Wilson was… irrelevant. She had no qualms pulling the trigger in both cases. And of course, she betrayed her father when she ran away, and betrayed the man who took her in after that, when she sided with Shepard on the Collector Base. In that light, Liara’s betrayal should not have surprised her.
And yet, the pain, that nagging feeling like something was torn from her chest, that was new. In all her life, she only had a few months of contentment, a little relief, sharing the weight with others. With one particular person. Oh, how blissful it was to share! It wasn’t a long time, really, not compared to the previous decades, but it was enough that the loss of it made her whimper at night, balled up in her bed, clawing at her chest to get rid of the tingling sensation, to get at the cold emptiness. It shouldn’t have been this painful. She could only hope, that it would fade and things would return to the way they were before.
Of course, Kelly came, genuine concern on her face, assuring her that she was there to listen and help. Jacob dropped by, too, baffled at the breakup, giving her the “I thought things were going fine” speech and encouraged her to sort it out with John. Chakwas made an attempt, too under the guise of a medical checkup and tried to convince her into talking with Shepard. In all cases she politely thanked them for their concern, smiling sadly and ensured them that when she was ready to talk, she would. She just needed time now. Even Kasumi dropped by, uninvited of course and in her straightforward way, asked her very personal questions and called all her answers stupid. They had a great talk.
It took them three days to pick up Feron and take him to a nondescript space station orbiting a mining moon, one of the many hideouts of the Shadow Broker. There were only a handful of people who knew the identity of the new Broker, and they wanted to keep it that way. The cover story they came up with was that it was a rescue operation, and freeing Feron was the goal. The drell was treated at Illium and once he was strong enough to return and help Liara run the Broker’s network, Shepard offered him a ride.
Miranda didn’t sleep much during that time. She worked a lot, stayed busy in her free time and made an effort not to look like a mess. Her first step was to sweep her room for listening devices. The next was to sketch up a plan until she can leave the ship, and what to do after it. She even considered surrendering and going into Alliance custody. She would be powerless, which was probably safe for her. Except Cerberus might send someone to kill her and she wouldn’t be able to protect Oriana. No. She had to disappear.
After giving two years of her life to bringing Shepard back and traveling with him all across the galaxy to save humanity, going on incredible adventures, she felt suffocated on the ship. The tension was building between them and the crew started to give her disapproving looks. Once the best place in the galaxy to be, the Normandy became a trap and she wanted to get off. She almost looked forward to being an intergalactic fugitive, running from three different enemies. This is what it all came down to—
The beep of the communicator jolted her back to reality again. It was Liara calling. They docked at the station a few hours ago, Liara no doubt giving Feron, but mostly Shepard a warm welcome and a small tour, being very attentive. They still had a couple of hours until the Normandy was ready to leave and start the slow trek back to Earth. She had been sitting at her desk for the last hour, dreading this call.
“Hi, Miranda,” Liara smiled warmly, her tone sweet and overly friendly, like a girlfriend making a social call. “I was wondering if you could drop by. We could catch up and talk some shop. Some quality girl time. What do you say?”

Miranda glared at her disdainfully.

“Sure, Liara. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“That would be great!”
They ended the call and Miranda sat there for another minute or so fuming, trying to calm down enough so she wouldn’t be trembling with rage when she got up. Eventually she let out a long sigh and stood, flicking on her omnitool, picked up a few things from her desk and made her way to the airlock.
She avoided Shepard and most of the command staff but she still managed to stir up a low murmur among the crew as she passed. EDI provided a daily compilation on the crew’s status, morale and anything she found relevant, which was merciless, but even if the AI knew compassion, it also knew that as the XO, Miranda would have wanted to get the information. She just couldn’t find the strength to read about how Shepard’s foul mood affected things and what people thought about her.
She took her time to get to Liara’s quarters, which took up a third of the space station. She was fiddling with her omnitool and read a datapad on the way, passing through halls and winding corridors. She put her gear down outside Liara’s place at the instructions of the security guards before she was allowed to enter.
The lair was a spacious, elegantly furnished suite, just flashy enough to pass for a mining company CEO’s headquarters. Not too discreet, not too fancy. One wall was just panels of double-layered windows with blast shields, giving a gorgeous view at the gas giant, around which the moon orbited.
Liara stood in front of the window, with her back to Miranda in a very theatrical pose, fashioning a long gown with an open back. She looked back at Miranda over her shoulder and smiled.

“Miranda!” She motioned at a table next to her with tall glasses and a bottle of expensive wine on it. “You don’t look so good.”
Miranda didn’t reply and didn’t make a move towards the asari, just folded her arms and stopped in the middle of the room. Liara chuckled softly, poured two glasses and walked up to her. Part of the wall opposite the windows was covered with monitors. Not as grandiose as the room on Hagalaz, but serving the same purpose. Half a dozen video feeds were running on them, none from this station.
On the middle one, a young brunette was sitting in a library, making notes on her portable, while reading datapads. It was a university campus, probably on Illium and Miranda was looking at a security feed of Oriana. Her heart sank.
“Mmm, yes. Lovely girl. Smart. She has a good future ahead of her. I am sure you agree.” Liara purred, stopping next to Miranda, handing her a glass while looking at the monitors.

“Is… is this live?” she asked, taking the offered glass. Suddenly she needed a drink.

“No. But I get regular updates.” Liara sounded positively cheerful. Miranda glared at her, that made Liara laugh. “Don’t worry. I hold up my end of the deal. You held up yours, marvelously. I should have known, that you would be thorough. And now I can pick up the pieces.”
Miranda scoffed.

“I wish you could hear yourself, Liara. You sound like a petty little girl. You used to be better than this.”

Liara’s eyes flashed, but she brushed away the anger. She was having her moment of victory at Miranda’s expense.
“Trying to appeal to my better nature, Miranda? Like when you convinced me to hand Shepard’s body over to you?” she strolled up to the screens and stopped next to the one showing Oriana, staring at it like she was looking out a window. “Well, I knew you could be trouble right then. The oh-so-pretty human woman. And then two years of waiting and hoping that he would come back.” She turned away to look at Miranda, who was still standing in one place, sipping the wine just to hide her nervousness. “He did, just not to me. You have no idea what it felt like. To lose him again.” Liara grimaced and waved a hand at her. “You can imagine my distress when I read your file and realized your genetic makeup. A perfect human female. I had to do something.”
“Why did you call me here?” Miranda asked, not interested in an other power-drunk monologue of resentment, superiority and childish glee. She started to have a bad feeling about this conversation. Liara didn’t need to call her here, or if she did, she should have gotten to the point by now.
Liara glared at her with a hurt expression, walking up to Miranda.

“To talk about respect, Miranda,” she hissed, looking over her, snatching the half empty glass from her hand. “I think I have proven to you how serious I am and yet, I feel you do not respect me.”
Miranda held her gaze, but kept quiet. Her apprehension grew by the minute, her heart racing. Liara, however, expected a response.

“What do you expect from me, Liara? You blackmail me with my sister, force me to break Shepard’s heart and I should respect you? Why?”

“I think I have earned it, Miranda. The least you could do is show your gratitude for not harming your sister.”
Miranda hid her growing concern behind a voice of disdain. “You are insane.”

Liara leaned closer and glared at her from barely an inch away. “See? That there! You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what? I used to have respect for you. Not any more. All that knowledge you gained from the Shadow Broker corrupted you. Think about it, Liara! What would Shepard think if he saw this side of you?!”
“Enough!” Liara yelled, cutting off her passionate, last ditch attempt of persuasion. Miranda felt an odd sense of doom, like she walked into a trap and just realized it. And she didn’t even knew what it was.
It started with a backhanded slap. Liara’s body started glowing blue and she grabbed Miranda’s throat. Her hands flew up and gripped Liara’s wrist with both hands, baring her teeth.

“I think we further need to establish who is in control, Miranda. You don’t know how real the threat is, until you get a taste of the consequences.”
Miranda’s eyes widened and her gaze darted to the monitors, afraid of what she will find there.

“Oh, you thought I’d do that?” the asari laughed amused. “Mmm, it would be counter-productive.” She let go of Miranda’s throat, and took a small step back to look her over. “No. I’m not stooping that low. But you thought I would.”
Miranda swallowed, rubbing her neck where Liara squeezed it. “What do you want?”

The asari pressed a palm against her chest. They were alone in the room, and Miranda knew she could put up a good fight against the asari, maybe even come out on top. And yet, over Liara’s shoulder, she saw her sister and she knew she was powerless.

“If you won’t give me the proper respect, I have to resort to other methods.”
Liara reached for the collar of Miranda’s outfit and began to open her jacket.

“What the—” Miranda growled, brushing Liara’s hand away, taking a step back. “You can’t be serious.”

Liara giggled, looking at her chest and shaking her head. “Now, now. You need to feel who is in charge here, Miranda. You need to know you can’t win this, so you don’t get any ideas. Do you understand?”
Miranda tried to remain calm, hide the fact that her heart was racing and she had trouble keeping her breathing regular. She understood. Of course she understood. And normally she wouldn’t be scared, but the past few days had taken their toll on her nerves. Right now the only thing she could do was not show obvious signs of fear. She let Liara open her jacket and run her hands along her torso, slipping her warm palms under her tank top.
“I get it, Liara. You don’t have to do this,” she whispered, grimacing uncomfortably, pulling her shoulders up as her jacket dropped to the floor.

“Yes, I do.” She squeezed her breast eagerly, making Miranda hiss. When the asari reached for her belt, Miranda slapped her hand away again. Liara smirked. “So you are going to do this the hard way, hmm?”
Miranda pressed her lips thin, her gaze full of boiling anger. She started opening her pants herself and slowly slipped out of it, keeping her eyes on Liara defiantly. She already knew she had lost, and she was trying to prepare herself for the pain and humiliation to follow. That didn’t mean, though, that she could not show some strength in this power play. She could settle for small victories at this point.
Liara seemed to miss the hint, but nonetheless she gave Miranda an amused look. Miranda stepped out of her pants and stood in front of her in a small tank top and cotton panties. Not waiting for the asari to give her more instructions, she pulled off the top and waited a few seconds before pushing her panties down.
Miranda pulled herself straight, chin up, and stood in the middle of the room completely naked, the view of the gas giant behind her. Liara tilted her head as she admired her form, said something about being an anatomically pleasing sight for asaris, while her hands ran along her waist and cupped her breast with obvious lust. Miranda didn’t listen, just stared straight ahead, secretly keeping an eye on the monitor showing Oriana. At least she is okay. She seems to be doing good, she thought and that almost made her weep. She tore her gaze away and endured Liara’s groping while she rambled about being fascinated with human hair.
“—I bet you trimmed it for Shepard” she was saying as she touched her sex, making her jump a bit. It brought her back to the present, feeling the warm touch, the asari’s palm cupping the smooth curve of her mound. “I did my research, you know.”
She tried to pull away, standing on tiptoes and frowning, shooting Liara another killer stare.

“Can’t you just shut up and get on with it?” Miranda hissed, at the limits of her patience.
Liara chuckled, her fingertips poking between her folds that made her clench her thighs, trapping the asari’s hand. Miranda put a hand on her arm, pushing it away, but Liara was not letting it go. Pressing her other hand against Miranda’s full breast she started to grope her, forcing her to tiptoe backwards, Liara striding after her, their bodies almost pressing together.
They bumped into a doorframe and Liara pinned her against the wall until she opened the door. They slipped in as soon as it slid open, the asari keeping her grip between Miranda’s thighs and returning to groping her breast.

“I just have to know what Shepard saw in you,” Liara purred, their bodies pressing together. Miranda could only turn her head away with a mild grimace, the asari’s hand pressed between her thighs. She squirmed. Liara did her research on human anatomy, that was sure.
Liara took a deep breath through her nose, eyes closing, taking in Miranda’s scent and hummed appreciatively. There was a dresser next to them and the asari reached out to pick up a jar, while she removed her hand from her sex.
Miranda relaxed a bit, sinking back onto her heels and closing her thighs, trying to calm herself down. This was just the beginning and the uncertainty was gnawing on her nerves.

“This is an asari ointment,” Liara chattered, dipping her fingers into it and spooning out a handful. “Water of Janiris. Spices and oily fruits. I’m sure there are human equivalents.”
She flashed a friendly smile at Miranda, spreading the pale, milky gel on her palms and then pressing them on her breasts with a firm move. Miranda jumped again, feeling the warm palms press her breasts flat, before the asari started to spread the cream on her torso generously, massaging it into her skin, working her way down her toned belly towards her lap.
“It helps asaris relax and heightens our senses. Many couples use it during sex, to enhance the melding. It acts as a kind of conductor to the psychic link.” Her rubbing palms reached Miranda’s hip, twisted her palm in a half circle over her smooth skin and glided it between her closed thighs. “Kind of like a lubricant, in human terms.” Liara added with a grin and worked her fingers expertly over Miranda’s smooth mound.
Miranda winced, pressing her palms flat against the wall next to her hips, trying to control her rising panic. Liara touching her sex made her extremely uncomfortable, bad memories stirring in the back of her mind.
Her loin was also stirring, the effect of the cream starting to kick in as she felt her body getting warmer from her breasts down to her thighs. It was like her skin tightened even more, her nipples hardening and the heat washing over her, making her sex tingle. She gasped as Liara massaged her mound and stroked her belly with her other hand. She was watching Miranda with a playful glint in her eyes, curious about her reaction.
As the heat rose, Miranda hissed or gasped at every touch, her flesh becoming more sensitive by the second. Her face flushed and she closed her eyes, finally unable to restrain herself and grabbed Liara’s wrist, trying to push it away from her squirming lap.
She closed her eyes, breathing heavily now, fighting Liara’s firm hands.

“Uh, I did what you told me, huhh, Liara!” She said through clenched teeth. “Just. Stop.”
Her brain was fighting with her body, the terror of somebody touching her against her will again clashing with the scents and the pleasant tingling in her core. She thought she left those bad memories behind more than a decade ago, but they were threatening to come back again. As she kept gasping and breathing heavily, which no doubt made her breasts sway to the delight of Liara, she wondered if the asari knew about it and did this on purpose. Her mind was getting fuzzy, though, making it harder to think this through. Not that it would help her—
When Liara’s hands disappeared, Miranda sighed in relief, pressing her knees together, trying to catch her breath and looked up, her face half-hidden by her hair. The asari was smiling, and slipping her dress off her body with graceful flicks of her shoulder, her arms running over her own chest as the fabric fell away.
She let out a sigh, half closing her eyes, very satisfied with herself. One blue hand ran down the curve of her hip, cupping her azure for a delicious second. Miranda watched her with apprehension, trying to figure out what was coming next. Even in this state, she could refuse the meld, at least she hoped so. She doubted that Liara could read everything in her mind even if she managed to break down her defenses. She was more worried about the how.
She found out the next moment, when Liara reached into the top drawer of the dresser and produced a strapon.

“Really?!” Miranda groaned, sweat breaking out on her scalp, and her arms started trembling. Was the asari going to fuck her senseless until she lets her inside her head? That was the plan? She knew in her right mind that it was not how it worked, but she barely slept in the last few days and she was a carefully contained nervous wreck even before she stepped into Liara’s neat little trap. It still wouldn’t work. Probably.
Liara swiftly slipped into the transparent blue straps and fastened it on her waist. She reached into the drawer as she started prattling again.

“Did you know that the batarian’s genitals resemble the human genitals the closest? Although, a bit larger and very ridgey.” She slipped an anatomically correct plastic replica of it to her straps. “The main difference is that their surface is kind of rough. Like… sharkskin. Apparently this stimulates ovulation in batarian females.”
Miranda shook her head slowly, eyes closed, leaning on her knees with her hands.

“Don’t.” It wasn’t a request. It was more like an argument. An exhausted effort at convincing Liara.

“The human colonization guide discourages experimentation with cross-species copulation,” Liara went on, putting on a headband with a neural transmitter, and rubbing her palms over her new appendage, coating it with the remnants of the asari ointment. “Ooh, I can see why. It’s rough.” Liara purred. Miranda shook her head again, gasping from the heat that engulfed her body, and she felt dampness between her thighs.
It was hard to fight back her rising panic. She was already feeling that familiar pressure in her chest, and her vision narrowing, all her thoughts concentrating on minimizing the inevitable discomfort. It took all her willpower not to whimper or try to run away when Liara turned her around and pressed her chest against her back. She felt the asari’s breasts squeeze into her shoulder blades and the strapon pushing between her thighs.
She pressed her palms and cheeks against the wall, closing her eyes as she felt groping hands over her hips and ass.

“Time for the lesson,” Liara whispered, her voice full of anticipation and restrained lust.

“Don’t… don’t…” Miranda mumbled, whispering it again and again in a higher pitch as she felt fingers digging into her flesh, stretching it and then the strapon touching against her sensitive folds. She let out a terrified whimper, squeezing her eyes shut.
The pressure kept building on her sex, the asari kept muttering something and then there was a push and a strain and she couldn’t stop the painful cry escaping her lips. It was worse than she remembered, worse than she expected it, the crude instrument working its way inside her. Pain and terror paralyzed her. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to open her eyes until it was over. In her mind the more she stopped resisting and moving, the sooner it was over.
The ridges ground against her folds, stretched her walls and sent jolts of pain along her spine. Liara moaned in delight, the neural transmitter providing feedback from the strapon to her pleasure centers. She could almost feel as the batarian cock invaded Miranda’s tight sex, the pressure sensors sending impulses to the headband.
It didn’t convey what Miranda felt, though, but the tightness was exquisite, if the asari’s moans of pleasure were any indication. She settled into a crude, but steady rhythm, the ointment providing some lubrication and Miranda’s body gradually started to accommodate better to the device. The oils also helped reduce the chafing, but not enough. Miranda felt the burning sensation creeping deeper and deeper inside her delicate flesh, her sex strained around the girth, the ridges irritating her folds as they moved in and out.
She clung to the wall desperately, her heart racing faster, fear crushing her chest, trying to dig her fingernails into the plastic, pressing her cheek to the wall harder, hoping for some comfort. Liara was very vocal about her own pleasure, and she kept stroking Miranda’s hair during the whole time, no doubt increasing her sensation. Miranda couldn’t help the moans of pain escaping her lips. After a while she could time her breathing to the rhythm of their bodies connecting, easing the pressure somewhat.
She was probably still loud enough for Liara’s pleasure. As the unwanted lubrication helped the act along, it didn’t take too long for the asari to reach her climax. She squeezed Miranda’s hip and shuddered, letting out deep, long moans of lust. By this time Miranda’s legs gave up and she collapsed on the floor, the asari on her back, filling her sex completely with her toy. Miranda let out a painful moan as they stopped, the appendage pressing into her flesh. She kept hugging the wall and waited, frozen in place until Liara caught her breath.
There was one last jolt of pain as the asari unceremoniously pulled out of her, making her gasp again.

It’s over. Thank god, it’s over!

She slowly sank to the floor, all strength leaving her. The memory of the strapon was still intense, it felt like it was still inside her. She was trying to breathe regularly, while she felt Liara grope her ass, making crude remarks about her gaping, swollen flesh. Miranda knew that the burning sensation will not leave easily.
There was a playful spank on her ass, but she was too exhausted to even react.

“Do you get it now, Miranda?”

She swallowed, nodding feebly, still unable to push herself up from the floor.

“This is how it feels to get raped by a batarian. A gentle one…” there was a pause. Next time Liara spoke closer, leaning over Miranda. “Imagine how it would feel like if there were more of them… Imagine how it would feel for Oriana.”
Miranda let out an exhausted sigh, trying to curl up on the floor. She fought with her tears, and the dread that seeped into her bones. She felt the asari run her hand over her body once more, then she felt cooler air rushing in as she stood up. Judging from the noises she started cleaning herself.

“Now you know. Not only that I am serious, but also understand what the consequences feel like. I hope I made myself clear.”
She didn’t expect an answer, but Miranda wanted it to be over, wanted to make sure it was over. “Yes, yes you did,” she panted, her voice trembling.

“How ironic, that Shepard suggested I should try to talk to you and find out what happened that changed your mind about him.” Liara laughed. “I was just too happy to oblige. Sadly, I will have to tell him that you crudely brushed me off… which wouldn’t be a complete lie, of course.” Another laugh. “I will be very understanding of course, and won’t take it to heart.”
Miranda forced herself to sit up, still reluctant to raise her head. She felt stronger now, but her lap was still on fire and the uncomfortable sensation of the invasion refused to go away.

“He told me you will get off before you reach Earth. That’s smart. Until then, we will make sure he will not change his mind. I know we agree on this one, right?”

“Yes, right,” Miranda whispered, defeated. She couldn’t fight this any more. She would do and say anything that would get her out of here without more pain.
“Good,” she felt the asari tussle her hair. “Appearances need to be kept, though. No hidden signals, no tricks, no secret messages. It will be business as usual with the XO until you disappear.” Liara paused until she got a nod and a mumble from Miranda. “You will receive instructions on your terminal. Remember. I see everything.”
“Yes. I understand.” She lifted her head and looked up at Liara. “Can I go now?”

Liara frowned at Miranda like she was an annoying child.

“Yes.” She stood there for a few more seconds, trying to decide if her message got through to Miranda, then she left the room.
Miranda sniffed, wiping her face dry and slowly she stood up on trembling legs. Liara was already sitting at her terminal, pouring herself another glass of wine. Miranda just stared ahead as she limped across the living room, picking up her discarded clothing slowly on the way to the bathroom.
The shower helped a little, at least she looked decent after it, but inside she felt broken. She still felt that… thing inside her, she had to walk carefully and it was an effort to keep all expression from her face. She didn’t dare to let go there and make Liara’s victory even greater by throwing up or sobbing in the shower. She just wanted to get out as fast as possible.
She dried herself as best as she could, making herself look decent in a mirror before slowly dressing up and walking out of the bathroom. Liara was barely acknowledging her presence as she crossed to the door, still moving carefully, hugging herself with one arm.
She stopped at the door, bowing her head and let out a soft sigh. Staring at the door panel, she spoke quietly.

“I want to keep in touch with Oriana.” There wasn’t as much strength in her voice as she hoped, just a little determination, maybe.

Liara scoffed impatiently.

“Well, I guess you can. But no tricks. No secret code. If she gets wind and tries to disappear…” she didn’t finish, just waved her hand.

“She will be safe?”

Liara rolled her eyes. “Yes. Whatever. As long as you stay out of my way.”
Miranda pressed her lips thin and nodded, mostly to herself. She could do that. The way Liara made her ruin her relationship with Shepard, it would be easier. At least she hoped that in time the pain will go away, into the back of her mind, maybe, locked away with all the other bad memories.

–––––

NOTE: The batarian anatomy idea was lifted from the alien genitalia discussion here:

http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/6066.html?thread=27533490&#t27533490
Feedback is appreciated. Please leave a comment here, under the story and I will reply here:

http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/54023-review-replies-daemeons-mass-effect-fanfics/

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The High Cost of Perfection