Angela twirled her sword with the ease and grace that a girl in color guard would twirl her baton. She made even such a savage act look so graceful and beautiful, it was easy to remember in such an instance that she was LITERALLY a goddess: the flesh and blood of Odin himself.
Seeing Jane begin to be overwhelmed, her own mortal stamina starting to betray her, Angela swooped over to where several Badoon warriors were beginning to bear down on her, sneering before showing her full power: she began to attack them with a ferocity most had never imagined, a speed almost impossible to completely follow, a whirling dervish of ultraviolence.
When it was over (scant seconds, really), the warriors that had been attacking Shepard were floating away, literally in pieces. Angela had sliced and diced through them like some buxom redheaded blender.