At the Edge of Heaven

She leaned out of cover and flung the bundled energy from her outstretched arm. The air around the heavy mech warped and the metal armour groaned under the enormous strain of her biotics. Buckling and unstable, the heavy mech wobbled on its legs unsteadily. With one quick twist, Miranda bolted from cover and fired two rounds. She was precise. One tore through its exposed optics and the second tore through the bundle of exposed wires just below the twisted plating of its chest. The mech collapsed to its knees and she quickly threw herself back into cover as the familiar crackling surge sounded within the mech. With a screeching grind, the heavy mech exploded in an intense ball of energy and metallic scrap. Miranda smirked at the rattling clamour of metal and circuitry pelting the floor and walls.

She leaned against the wall, her black flat on the warmed steel. She took a few straggling seconds to refocus her powers as the metal rained down in the corridor. Once the clamour mostly faded she pushed herself straight, readied her pistol, and walked through the doors. The sizzling mounds of mechs littered the corridor, but Miranda still glided through the smoking wreckage with easy grace. She ignored the odd crackle and burst of flame and wound her way towards the far door. The battle had taken a few minutes, ten, at most. She would easily beat Wilson to the hangar, to the shuttle, and she would deal with the traitorous bastard. She came to the door and stopped.

She made one last check of her omni tool, ensuring that her techs were set and ready. With fuming determination, and a slight scowl, she opened the door to the hangar and slid into cover behind the frame. She poked her head out cautiously and carefully surveyed the large room. She squinted in suspicion when she saw no roaming mechs and heard no faint evidence of mech activity at all. There was nothing. It didn’t make sense. Why weren’t there a patrol of mechs in the hangar? She took a few seconds to watch the seemingly empty room before taking a steadying, calming breath and slowly sliding out of cover.

She raised her pistol in both hands and took the first step into the hangar. Her eyes roamed over the room, the gun following her gaze. Still, she didn’t see a single mech. She cautiously walked forward, casting her gaze about and turning to cover her rear every few steps. But nothing was there and Miranda inched closer to the nearby ramp. It still made no sense to her. Not a single mech stood guard. Either Shepard was causing more havoc than Wilson had planned or Wilson simply hadn’t planned. Miranda shook her head in disgust as she ascended the ramp and the door to the shuttle came into view. She quickly turned to face the other direction. The room on the far side looked empty, but she finally saw two mechs curled tightly on the walkway. Two deactivated mechs to guard the shuttle… Wilson was an idiot.

Miranda thought of squeezing two quick rounds into the currently harmless mechs, but quickly dismissed the notion. No need to draw attention to herself. If they suddenly activated, they were easy enough to dispatch. But until then it was better to avoid alerting any nearby mechs to her presence, as unlikely as it seemed. And Shepard could always handle them if they stumbled into him. She had to worry about the shuttle first, make sure it was clear of any tampering. Or else it wouldn’t matter if Shepard got to her safely.

So with a reluctant twist she sped down the walkway, pistol still at the ready. At the first door, she flattened against the wall, double checked her techs and weapon, and opened the door. She scanned the corridor.

“Damn.” There were another few deactivated mechs. Maybe Wilson wasn’t so stupid after all. Again she paused for a moment and weighed her options. She hated leaving mechs at her back, but she needed to get to the shuttle quickly. She decided to leave them be again and ran past to the next door. She took cover and opened the second door. As it door opened she glanced around the dock, then dashed inside when she saw nothing. But her hopes that it was that easy were silenced as the doors quickly shut behind her and the bleeping of the security lock made her grimace. And as the electronic whine and low hum rumbled in the air, she hissed in anger. Wilson wasn’t an idiot. There was a heavy mech guarding the shuttle.

She quickly activated her tech and she hurled overload at the hulking mech before it got too close to the shuttle. The mechs shields flashed and collapsed under the bolt of energy. She was then diving under a spray of gunfire and Miranda raised her pistol and fired as she twisted along the ground. Several rounds bounced harmlessly off the armoured plating, but two rounds sliced through the joint on its left arm. She rose to her knees and focused her energy, then cursed. The mech had pulled in tight to the shuttle. If she threw anything at it, she would hit the shuttle. She dove under another hail of bullets.

“Damn!” she grunted in pain as several rounds ricocheted off her shields. They might not have penetrated, but she still grimaced at the intense impacts. She would be bruised. She fired off three quick rounds as she vaulted to one knee. Two more harmless shots off the armour, but the third punched into the unprotected bundle of wires in the neck. The mech reeled for a brief second, but it was enough. Miranda shot to her feet and sprinted towards it. She sucked in a surprised breath as it lifted its arm and fired a rocket. Luckily, the mech had not regained its balance completely and she was able to lean just enough so that it screamed past her right ear. She gasped as intense heat scorched the side of her face and exhaled gratefully when the shields held and the heat passed. She then launched herself the remaining few metres and crashed into the mech. It barely stumbled at the collision of her comparatively insignificant weight, but again it was enough for her. She found a perch on the mech, her toes balanced on the slightest of ledges on its frame, and she shoved the pistol into the new hole in the mech’s throat, pointing down into its chest. She fired.

The mech shuddered with each round then whined one last time as it slumped to the ground. Miranda vaulted off the heavy mech as it fell, but did not manage it with the grace she was accustomed to. Her heel hit the ground first, her leg flared with pain, and she stumbled. She pressed her hand over the pain, the area grazed by one of the mech’s rounds, and straightened. She quickly shook her leg and the pain faded. It was nothing. She was stronger than that. Still, it was times like these she questioned her choice to wear heels. Still, she managed.

The fleeting and rather silly thought was quickly banished. She had work to do. She rushed over to the shuttle, activated her omni-tool, and began a security sweep of the vehicle. She scanned the shuttle, walking up and down its length murmuring with each read-out. It took long minutes, but eventually she nodded her head in satisfaction. The shuttle was clean. Though there was one life sign within the vehicle. Hopefully the person was alive and helpful.

“I know you’re in there.” She patched herself into the comm and calmly spoke. “Open the door.” For several moments, she waited. The door didn’t open. “Open the door or I open it for you!”

Again the door didn’t open. She exhaled in frustration and walked up to the shuttle door. She punched in the sequence on her omni-tool and, with a satisfying beep, the door slid open. Two quick rounds buzzed her head. She gasped and jumped to the side, her arm flashing up and an instinctive burst of energy leapt from her outstretched fingers, and then she flattened herself against the hull of the shuttle. A cry of pain erupted from within and then the soft thud of a body crumpling to the floor. She cautiously poked her head back into the shuttle. A man was huddled on the floor, twitching from the agony of the warp she had unleashed. He was still breathing; he was still conscious. He looked up at her with fear in his eyes.

“Do you work for Wilson?” she levelled the gun at his head, her icy voice ringing with intent. He merely shook his head, unable to speak. “Do. You. Work. For. Wilson.” She slowly enunciated each word.

“No, ma’am.” The trembling man finally whispered. “I just… I didn’t… I…”

She only shook her head at his faltering. He clearly wasn’t battle material if something so mundane shook him. Still, it would be better if he could fly the ship. So she knelt down beside him and laid her hand on his shoulder.

“Easy. ” Her voice was calm and steady. He relaxed at her touch. “Can you pilot this shuttle.” He nodded and almost sighed in relief. “All I need is for you to fly the ship when I give the order. Can you do that?”


“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded again and sat up. He took a few calming breaths then looked up at her, his brown eyes steeling themselves slowly. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“Just pull yourself together and get this shuttle ready to launch.” She stood up, turned to the door, and stepped out. She stopped and quickly tapped in another sequence into her omni-tool, locking the shuttle down. “And don’t think to betray me.” She let the obvious threat hang in the air.

She ignored his reply, not even seeing his legs trembling beneath him as he saluted. She marched towards the door. She needed to get Shepard and get the hell off the station. She wouldn’t miss it. She stopped at the door and started to raise her arm to unlock the door. But she didn’t have to, it opened. Her mouth opened in a snarl.

“Miranda,” his voice shook in surprise and fear “But, you were…”

Miranda raised the pistol to his chest and fired one round. Wilson crumpled to the floor.

“Dead?” She glared at his corpse, her chest tight and her anger roiling within her.