Jack and Miranda

Shepard did a quick scan of the room before he caught sight of a shaved head ducking behind the Mako and out of sight.

"Jack, you're coming along, I'll need a biotic to check for life signs."

From behind the Mako there came the telltale clattering of boxes toppling over. "OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE-"

Miranda, stepped forward angrily. "Hold on Shepard, that landing craft is Cerberus technology. There are too many unique patents in the cupholders alone for her to be allowed free reign inside." The Cerberus officer in the skintight suit, like always, looked like dealing with the intricacies of galactic scale intrigue and bickering alien species was just another day at the office.

"I want her for my team, what do you suggest?"

"You need a Cerberus officer to get the most out of it and to keep your dog muzzled."

"Okay, I accept your volunteer to go in her spot."

"You know that's not-"

Jack suddenly came vaulting over the Mako to close in on Shepard, elbowing Miranda aside in the process. "Hold the fuck on, you're letting the cheerleader make squad choices now? That was my spot." The ex-convict in the baggy worker pants and almost nothing else had, like always, taken issue with every word that came out of Miranda's mouth.

"I didn't know you were so eager to come along."

"You kidding me? Feeling my bones compact into dust and dying instantly when the hull cracks and our blood gets soda streamed by depressurization? Sounds like a good Friday night if you ask me."

"Okay, so you two both volunteer and it makes my job easier."

"Commander," Jacob stepped forward "I don't think I need to remind you how bad of an idea that is."

"I can't see why it would be a problem, so long as barbie doesn't pop an implant." Jack said, her face twisted into a **** smile.

"I suppose I have some duty to Cerberus to return the Mako in one piece." Miranda sighed, fiddling with the pressure seals of her away suit.

The atmosphere of the Mako was quiet and implicitly seethed with spiteful jabs. Shepard could perform pretty basic biotics at the best of times, he was no master in the ways of the bespoke twisting fields and barriers some of his crew could conjure. However, even somebody with no biotic sense or ability could have picked up on the slight nudges and shoves his squadmates were giving each other behind his back. It was a delicate game of being an absolute bastard to each other that they were playing, as was always the case in biotic exchanges. It was equal parts about keeping the wall around yourself as tight as possible while constantly searching for an error in your opponent's guard. Shepard usually didn't intervene for that very reason. Most of the shoves and nudges would deflect harmlessly around expertly crafted barriers and protections. That was why biotics tended to throw things a lot more than just crushing each other telepathically. That was when Shepard had to step in; when the throwing things started.

"Are we green?" Shepard cut in when he was locked in place.

"Ready as a priest in a brothel." Jack grunted back.

"Ready here She-OW!" Miranda winced. Jack laughed before her head slammed back against her seat with a thud.

"Stop it you two!" Shepard barked. The girls turned from each other to face forward. He felt a pair of silent shoves hit his seatback.

"Better me than each other." He sighed internally.

The drop had gone as well as one could hope, at least by the standards of high-orbit Mako drops. In a mechanical process with the capability to make your skull meet your pelvic bone, the best you could hope for was a process you wouldn't wish on most of your enemies. In Earth gravity, the sensation while in impact locks was still worse than taking a bullet. Shepard's line of work involved taking a few bullets, Shepard preferred that experience. Despite the constant threat of even the most minor machine failures meaning becoming a smear against an unfeeling planet surface, this was one of the more serene drops in Shepard's experience with them. There was a long blissful stretch of time, albeit one where it felt like his liver was trying to slide out through his spine, where the two galaxy-class biotics sitting behind him restrained their fields to their own bodies. The sort of fight or flight adrenaline rush response that pushed biotic energy out from the core in an attempt to keep their bodies from harm. Miranda seemed to fixate on some sort of calming internal mantra as she squeezed her eyes shut like she could make the situation go away. Jack contrarily wore a worried look like she was on her way to be dressed down by a principal. Miranda's slow and sleep-like breathing was matched by Jack's deep inhales and trying to puff out her chest as much as possible.

Even with full impact compensation deployed, the Mako slammed into the planet's surface like a train running into a comet. For a microsecond, Shepard could feel his lower jaw about to make a longing embrace with his ankles. The second passed and gravity normalized, leaving him feeling distinctly crushed but still in full bodily control. He unlocked from his harness and took a few staggering steps around the cabin. Miranda wobbled toward the main console like a newborn giraffe and steadied herself on anything she could reach along the way. Jack unfastened her harness with panicked urgency and manage to lurch her way to the toilet before the sounds of her stomach purging its contents echoed through the cabin.

"Fucking... rookie." Miranda cringed out.

"Hold still next time so I can vomit down the front of your onesie, bitch." Jack's deflated reply came between heaves.

The Mako inched along the wasteland-like surface of the red and grey planet. With each bump, rock, and dip the mechanics groaned and screamed. When designing equipment for space exploration, one often must design things with an absolute logical **** in mind. It is unfortunate, then, that nature does not often play by this same logic. On the main console of the Mako, the high gravity compensation readout proudly declared that it was only operating at 75% capacity. The shocks themselves sang a different tune. The Mako shrieked at a snail’s pace even with maximized power output. An hour passed. Then another. They were barely halfway.

The time passed slowly and tensely. There were instruments to read, adjustments to make, calibrations to perform. Every time the Mako groaned and bucked like the planet was trying to exorcise its passengers onto the baking surface, the cabin's atmosphere would grow especially tense for a moment before settling back to gentle paranoia. Under his breath, Shepard blessed the situation for keeping Jack and Miranda from going at each other's throats.

After a long stretch of wordless tension, Miranda finally nudged Shepard. "Distress beacon should be popping up on the horizon."

Shepard sighed in relief and flicked a switch, causing the protective shield over the transparent alloy viewing screen to slowly rattle up. Instantly the cabin was blasted by a wave of **** heat. The polymer alloy was graded to block out 99.9% of external heat sources, by Shepard's scientific reading that meant it was likely extremely fucking hot outside.

Inside a small crater on the blasted nickel surface of the planet sat a twisted hunk of shattered featureless metal. Any decorative painting or markings were long blasted away by whirling chemical wind and scorching sun. Around it there was only debris, no life could be seen for miles.

"For the record, looks like they're fucked." Jack quipped from behind them.

"Either of you sense anything?"

"Nothing is making contact."

"If I could just... squeeze past prom queen here, I get nothing."

"Quit complaining, there's enough room on a whole planet for both of our projections."

"Speak for yourself, I think your brain has a fat enough ass to hog the spiritual doorway."

"Maybe yours is just too weak to fit."

"Yeah? You want to find out what I can fit in your ass?"

"So no life signs?" Shepard tried to interject.

"You learn all about assplay in Purgatory?"

"I'd be happy to get elbow-deep and teach you. When you were in that test-tube did they make it so I could wear you like a pair of gloves?"

"Joker, this is away team, we're heading back to the Normandy right away." Shepard pinged desperately through his earpiece. Sweat was beginning to creep down into his collar as he closed the viewport.

"Gotcha commander, what's the status?"

"Is your obsession with my appearance because you wonder what it's like for somebody to find you fuckable?" Miranda continued, ignoring Shepard.

"No life signs, we need to get back before blood gets drawn."

"No, it's because your body is based on what your dad considered fuckable." Jack spat back.

"Aye, aye captain, off the record I just wanna remind you that Omni-tools have great cameras and lots of room for stored videos." Joker added before Shepard cut the line.

"Is sex all you think about?"

"No, sometimes I think about airlocking you, but that also turns me on."

"I'd say seek help but you're a lost cause."

"Both of you, can it!" Shepard barked. "For the next two hours until we're back on the ship I don't want to hear a word!"

Shepard turned for a moment to punch the coordinates for the landing zone back in. Before he could even finish he heard the sound of a thermos deflecting off of a console and clattering onto the floor. Shepard whipped around in his seat and caught Miranda firing a serving tray back. He quickly punched a combination into his control pad, hoping Cerberus had done its research on the old Mako. To his relief it worked, emergency impact restraints snapped into place over the two of them and held them fast to their seat.

"What the fuck? Shepard!" Miranda turned and glared barbs at Shepard. Jack quietly seethed in her seat.

"If you'd prefer to walk back to the landing zone you can do it, otherwise keep a fucking lid on it until we're back on the Normandy!" Shepard barked and turned back to the console. Even though he felt both of them slamming the back of his seat repeatedly he ignored it. They rode on in uneasy silence.

The intercoms crackled to life "Commander, I've got bad news and worse news."

"What's the situation?"

"Bad news is there's a sun storm coming in about an hour, that whole planet is going to be blasted with radiation. Complete blackout level, it'll eat the Normandy alive.."

"How much time do we need?"

"That's the worse news. We'll be at a safe distance if we burn at full for most of that time, but that means you guys need to come back ASAP."

"We can't make that in time Shepard, he needs to land closer." Miranda interjected.

"Miranda's right. I can take her down there and make an in-atmosphere grab Commander, I've locked on your signal."

"Can the Normandy survive low orbit?"

"We have about an inch of buffer between the Mako's best height and being turned into a pancake but I can do it."

EDI's cool voice cut in. "Negative, the Mako cannot make that height in Metgos's environment. The Mako is graded for survival at twice the maximum duration I project. Anything other than delaying evacuation is suicide."

"If the Mako can't get high enough I can go lower, I can do this!"

"Computer's right Joker, get the Normandy to safety and come back for us later. We can manage on holdout supplies."

Joker sat in silence on the other end for a sullen moment before responding. "Aye aye commander, I hope you know what you're ordering."

The comms crackled back to silence and all that remained was the quiet hum and creak of the Mako along the planet's surface. Soon after, there was a crack like a planet-wide thunderclap followed by the lights of the cabin blinking and dropping dead. The Mako creaked to a stop in place as the cabin went completely silent aside from the creaking of the hull. The backup generator hummed to life shortly after and the lights came back on far more dimly than before. The passenger restraints clicked open as the Mako switched to life-sustaining functions only. Jack stormed into the personal chambers in the rear as Miranda rose with a sigh. Shepard sat back feeling defeated and helpless. The temperature crept upward.

Within a few hours, the air had become absolutely stifling. Even standing next to the cool vents it came pumping out of, you couldn't escape the damp heat of it. The smell of the cheap air recycler started to creep into everything and every place. There was no concern about food, water, or air. The pure survival functionalities were all perfectly sustained. There was no concern about hull failure, they were far safer sitting in place than they ever had been when dropping or even trundling along. The cabin's personal amenities took the form of a cot in the back, a standing room toilet closet hooked up to waste recycling, and the electric kettles and cooking equipment you could fit into a fold-out eating station. Even if it could house more than a single person, it was clearly designed for just one. The stillness hit you first, the cramped-ness hit you second. It didn't help that it felt like everybody was primed to snap at everybody. Brushing past somebody in the hall became walking on eggshells. The girls, for their part, kept it quiet for at least the first few hours. There were glares, the occasional gesture, but both of them were just as aware of what was happening as Shepard and seemed ready to try to make it work.

Shepard had trained for this, failure of one kind or another was common in this line of work. He'd rationed food, water, and even air before. This was nowhere near as stressful on a moment-to-moment basis.

Having company was a new experience.

Even having company that didn't want to see each other filleted alive would have been a uniquely stressful experience. The constant close contact destroyed privacy, made everything you said to one have to be okay for the other to hear. You were scared to chew too loud, scared to fart or burp. Clearing your throat became a personal attack on your roommates. Doing anything while somebody tried to sleep made you feel guilty. It seemed like your only option was to sit in silence, to become as small as possible.

Of course, it didn't help that the two girls he was with were dressed in a skintight suit with curves so perfect they couldn't have been natural and a leather belt used to compress her tits, respectively. Two women who had been the cause of enough arousal with a ship's worth of distance between them and him suddenly lived close enough to be never out of arm's or eye's reach. He became hyper-aware of the brushes of skin against each other, tried to be smaller as a result. It had been a while since he'd had the chance to relieve himself, either by himself or with one of his squadmates. Of course, he couldn't have known he'd be where he was, if he could have he would have taken the chance before he left. Both girls on their own had been playful before, never giving it up like some of the others. One was all business and one was all talk. Now both of them seemed to be following his example, trying to draw more away from contact than before. Even if he caught the suggestive glances from Miranda when they would make eye contact and the shameless eye-fucking from Jack. The occasional close brush or drawn-out touch could usually be laughed off as a coincidence if the third party saw, but everybody knew what was going on.

He hadn't been keeping track of the hours, by his estimation, it was about the third day. The talk had been minimal, each of them responding to the situation by coping with their own de-stressors and doing maintenance. He'd slept when he could, they all would try but find little success. The heat was **** and as little as the growl of a stomach would be heard back in the bunk. He'd gotten so used to tucking his cock into his waistband or down the leg of his pants that he'd stopped thinking about it.

Jack was kicked back in her chair, reclining and cycling through documents she'd read a dozen times already on her datapad. She was fidgeting with frustration when she finally leaned forward.

"I can't fucking handle this anymore." Jack groaned. She reached behind her back and unfastened the belt she wore around her chest. Her breasts came dropping out. Judging by just how much size they gained now that they were free, one could only marvel at how much the belt restrained them. Their pale skin was as covered in tattoos as the rest of her exposed skin aside from her pink nipples, stricken through with a circular barbell hanging from each.

"Is it just a natural urge to expose yourself?" Miranda grumbled.

"You wouldn't believe how uncomfortable that shit is." Jack sighed as she dropped the harness to the floor. "Whoever invented leather should be fuckin shot."

"Why even wear it then?"

"Not a great idea to walk around in a prison with a set of sweet double ds hanging out." Jack sighed as she leaned back in her chair. "Unless you've got **** fantasies."

"Can't relate."

"You should try being in prison some time, they'd love you there."

"I will pay you to shut up."

"They'd fuckin lock you in the glory hole and throw away the key. Did your dad make it so you can subsist on jizz? Seems like it could be handy."

"Cerberus should have saved the galaxy some trouble and removed your tongue."

Shepard buried his face in his hands, all he could do was internally repeat "I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot..."

"I'm glad your dad let you keep yours, it's so I can make you eat me before I kill you."

"What was that combo for the restraints? Preferably with a muzzle?"

"You want some power play, pillow princess? Hey Shepard, she calls you daddy, right?"

"Can you say anything that isn't sexual harassment?"

"Is 'I hope you drown' a good start?"

"It's progress."

"Fine, I hope you drown in krogan spunk."

Miranda stood up "On second thought, let's kick her out."

Jack remained reclined, her arms behind her back as she kicked lazily in her chair. "Don't pick a fight you can't win cheerleader."

"Girls, please-" Shepard tried to interject but was cut off immediately.

"See? He's trying to save your fat ass from the pounding of a lifetime." Jack preened smugly.

"I'm not letting you wind me up anymore, Shepard is right." Miranda sighed.

"Oh I forgot, Shepard is the only one allowed to pound your ass."

"You need to stop before somebody makes you."

"Like I said, princess, don't pick fights you can't win."

Miranda stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door. "Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave!" Jack sneered after her.

Shepard turned around to look at Jack, who was kicked back in her chair and swiveling it side to side lazily. She had her hands linked behind her head like she was laying on a tropical beach and an ear-to-ear grin. When she caught Shepard's disproving look, she scowled.

"What?"

"Do you have to antagonize her?"

"It's fun." Jack shrugged. "Plus, she's cute when she's upset."

"So does that mean you're going to kiss and make up?"

"Not like that Shepard, shit. Not in a million years like that."

"I think that's denial."

"You wanna talk about denial? Like how you're pretending a badass topless chick laying into a prom queen doesn't totally do it for you?" Jack said as she leaned forward, she walked over to Shepard and sat down in his lap. She pressed her tits into his face performatively as she writhed her back, gyrating and grinding against the bulge in his pants. Shepard was left breathless and she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered into his ear.

"Is that your denial in your pocket, or are you just rock hard to see me?"

"I think this is a bad time to do this." Shepard moaned, feeling the intense wet heat of Jack's pussy through her pants.

"Scared she'll watch? Let's give her a good show then." Jack breathed before biting down on Shepard's ear. She grabbed Shepard's arms and set them around her waist, putting his hands on her ass.

The bathroom door clicked open.

"I leave for a minute and you're ready to jump on the only hard dick in sight."

Jack sighed but didn't even turn "You can wait your turn if you want but he might need a few hours of recovery time."

"How about instead of that you go rub one out while smelling his shirt like usual?"

For the first time, Jack seemed completely backhanded by Miranda's shot. She froze in place in Shepard's lap with her face twisted in shock. Shepard felt the air crackle around him.

"Oh, so you really want me to wipe the floor with you this time." Jack said, calmly rising to face Miranda. Miranda didn't so much as blink.

"Maybe if you stopped threatening to kick my ass and kicked my ass I'd take that more seriously."

"Do not make me angry cheerleader, I will skullfuck you."

"You're nothing but hot air."

Shepard caught the quiet crackle of biotic power coming from both of them, invisible to the untrained eye the shoves and knocks of previous fights were turning into stabs and blasts. Anything loose within reach was beginning to rattle. Shepard tried to pull himself up and step in the way but this was a new level he wasn't used to. It was hard to breathe or move; like he was being sucked out of a crack in the hull. All he managed was a choked "Please.."

The atmosphere broke when Miranda threw a cold clock, it was almost enough to take Jack by surprise. She caught a bit on the ear as she ducked out of it. For all of her skills, Miranda probably wasn't much of a pit fighter. When Jack dropped low and drove a shoulder into her stomach she folded backward and hit the floor. Jack drove at her, grabbing a handful of hair and trying to slam Miranda's head against the metal floor. Miranda almost instinctively threw out a field and bounced Jack off of the ceiling. Jack landed dazed in the back cabin but immediately warped Miranda back along the floor toward her. Jack grabbed handfuls of anything she could pull and yanked at it. Handfuls of Miranda's hair got the desired pained noises in response, handfuls of her bodysuit tore chunks of the fabric away with furious ease. Miranda pushed and pushed to try flinging the wiry girl off of her but each time Jack would rebuke, intent to cling like a tick and keep the fight close and dirty. Miranda tried to grab at hair that Jack didn't have for some leverage, but learned a hard lesson that cost her more chunks of clothing. She finally broke free when she hit Jack with a hard pull instead of a push, Jack's own guard only aiding to throw her forward and slam her head against the ground.

Jack winced and cursed as Miranda tried to drag herself from under the prisoner. Jack grappled furiously to try and keep on top but mostly just latched onto Miranda's ailing clothing. As Miranda pulled herself free, her bodysuit gave a final pathetic noise as the top half all but shredded away. Miranda lurched forward in an attempt to stand, her genetically enhanced chest hanging exposed and the remains of her bodysuit drooping around her waist, threatening to fall completely off. Jack crawled lurchingly forward, clutching at her head with one hand. Both panted for breath and eyed the other warily.

"Had enough?" Miranda gasped.

"There are no words for how much I want to gut you." Jack groaned.

"I'm charging you for my suit."

"I'll feed you the rest and we'll call it even."

"Both of you, stand down!" Shepard barked, finding the strength to stand again.

The girls look at him unconcernedly. Miranda flicked her wrist and he was thrown back into his seat. Jack flicked hers and impact compensation closed around him.

"Quiet John, we're in the middle of something." Miranda said with even a cursory glance back.

That moment of diverting her gaze cost her Jack throwing the weight of her wiry body at full speed onto Miranda. They landed on the ground in a heap, trying to throw themselves on top of one another. Miranda managed to **** her way on top just in time to catch a hard biotic shove off from Jack that sent her crashing against the back wall. She grabbed a handful of Jack's waistband as she was thrown back and the tattered work pants split down the length of one leg. When Jack crawled back to her feet she immediately fell forward as what remained of her pants caught around her ankles. She tried her best to kick out of the remains of what had been the last of her clothing. Miranda crawled toward her, any remains of her bodysuit had been reduced to revealing tatters both top and bottom. The two mostly naked girls managed to topple onto one another and wound up in another battle for supremacy. There was no telling who would come out on top this time, but with how much of a toll it was taking on them, they would probably win.