This was, for lack of a better word, a waking nightmare. Between dealing with the stresses of working a ship run by a borderline schizophrenic commander, having to help assemble a crew of ragtag misfits, having the Illusive man breathing down her neck asking for progress reports, dealing with the looming threat of the Collectors and the Reapers...and now this business of her sister being found out by her dad...Well, it was becoming a little stressful for the Cerberus operative known as Miranda Lawson.
She had been a designer baby, created by her father to be the 'perfect' daughter. And in many respects she was as close to the concept of perfection as one could be. There were few skills she couldn't pick up and learn, her brain functioned at a higher rate than that of a normal woman, and by human standards she was a very powerful biotic. But the stress and abuse she endured under her father was what led to her becoming a runaway.
So Henry Lawson decided to repeat the process, creating a second 'perfect daughter' by the name of Oriana. Miranda had managed to take Oriana away when she was an infant, giving her to Cerberus so she could live a normal life. And she had, for the most part. Blissfully unaware of her origin, and the nefarious purpose behind her creation. And Miranda had worked hard to maintain this security of her younger sister, letting her have 19 peaceful years of life.
But that was all to be undone now. The busty human sat behind her desk in her usual white catsuit, her dark hair tossed back and falling in waves down her back. For the past 15 minutes she had been deep in talk with her contact Niket, figuring out everything she could about the information leak that had Henry on her sisters tail.
"I see. Thank you Niket, I'll get out there when I can. Ugh this whole thing is a nightmare, Oriana shouldn't be getting caught up in this." With a reserved sigh, Miranda ended the video call and leaned back in her chair "Crap...now I'll have to bring Shepard in on this. Assuming she'll help at all."<|im_end|>
For whatever reason, Jack was Shepard's little pet project aboard the Normandy. Maybe it was because the soldier used to run with The Reds, a gang back on Earth, and therefore thought that she and Jack had something in common. Maybe it was because Shepard was some sort of Alliance girl scout that needed to save the galaxy one hopeless case at a time. Or maybe it was because they were both badasses and Shepard didn't want to hang out with crew members who couldn't hold their alcohol. It certainly wasn't because the Commander wanted to fuck; Jack had already made that offer on day one and Shepard had pussied out.
Whatever. Her loss.
So it was no surprise to her that Shepard had come down to her little hole in Engineering to have one of their talks. But tonight they weren't talking about their 'feelings' or their past - they were talking about the head Cerberus cheerleader: fucking Miranda Lawson. Jack still didn't know if she wanted to fuck the genetically engineered woman senseless or bash her head against the wall in an attempt to wipe that I-am-better-than-you smirk off her perfect little face.
Miranda needs help and I need someone that can take out waves of enemies. Shepard sighed. Talking to Jack was like talking to a teenager sometimes - though she supposed that was a pretty accurate comparison. Even if Jack had had a normal life, she was still just a young woman. Toss in a lack of childhood and a fucked up life and the girl was nothing more than a soft, squishy child on the inside once all the rough layers were peeled away.
Fine, I'll help. Jack spoke up after a long while. Well, maybe this would put her and Miranda on a more equal playing field. If Jack did the Operative a favor, maybe she'd stop being such an arrogant bitch around the younger biotic.<|im_end|>