Jack was never fond of the self-appointed second-in-command of the Normandy SR-2.
Hell anyone with eyes and decent understanding could figure out the “true” second was the Turian, Garrus Vakarian, he and Shepard had gone through hell and back together twice now (same with Tali’Zorah) there was perhaps no one the Commander trusted more then Garrus.
Not that it mattered to her Shepard someone whom she did silently admit to respecting if only because the equally tough leader (no way would she willingly admit someone was tougher then her) had shown and proven themself to the hotheaded biotic. Shepard made the impossible possible…many times over as she had heard the assassin Thane Krios mentioned once before.
But to think that Miranda Lawson actually considered herself the second in power after Shepard was downright laughable if only because of how absurd the statement was. The Turian yes, maybe even the Quarian to a lesser degree, but “The Cheerleader” hah hell no.
That bitch was just that and while Shepard had settled their near violent dispute several weeks ago Jack would no way admit to considering Miranda a close personal friend. Some of the others of the crew yeah maybe…so long as they didn’t piss her off but not Lawson.
She also despised how whenever she would tag along with Shepard to more public-focused planets some men (as well as some women) would stare at Miranda for minutes on end. Some of those perverts wouldn’t even try to hide it. Jack knew all too well what they were scoping out…those twin inflated beach balls Lawson called a backside.
She growled for a second somehow controlling herself from ripping a hole in bottom portion of the engine room. Shepard wasn’t as violent as her but was known to have willingly head-butted a Krogan for insulting Grunt knowing that she’d probably toss Jack into Grunt’s pod for a bit of literal cooling off. So she decided not to risk it or waste Shepard’s time.
Even still the distaste for Miranda still lingered inside her. If only there was a way to ruin little miss genetically-made perfect. Recalling the bitch’s ass Jack smiled confidentially of course the answer had been so simple and right in front of her.
Make the rest of Miranda match her big booty. Those same people that couldn’t take their eyes off her would be disgusted by her flab-filled rolls. Combat-wise she’d be so damn slow and useless her position as second-in-command would be thrown out the window in seconds.
It was perfect but first Jack had to find a way to make such a thought a reality.
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