So, I just finished Mass Effect:Andromeda and now I feel sad, but it did inspire me to write another fanfic! Now, this story will contain SPOILERS for the Kadara quest line. It is based on certain choices the Pathfinder makes, but it revolves around Kaetus, Sloane Kelly's right hand turian.

SPOILERS are already starting, turn back now if you've not completed the Kadara story! (But after you're done come back and read it)

For some reason, I was drawn to Kaetus. Probably because he was an asshole turian with an air of mystery about him hehe. With my choices in my game, I felt bad for how things went down for him, so I got inspired to write about him. This story is as if the Collective never arrested him after they take over Kadara Port. This is also written before any sort of DLC or expansions that might involve Kaetus. This is rated M for bad language and eventually some explicit scenes. Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter One

Broken

Kaetus opened his eyes to the most intense pain he'd ever felt. Well, he thought he'd opened his eyes, but as he began to focus, he realized only one was opening. Everything hurt. Even parts of him he didn't think could hurt. His head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, his insides felt as if they'd been chewed up and spit back out, and his arms and legs felt numb and heavy.

Like pieces of a puzzle falling into place, his mind began to reconnect and remember what happened. It was those damned Collective thugs. They jumped him when he was weaponless. He was able to fight a few off and land some good punches, but one turian couldn't fend off ten minions of the Charlatan. When they finally tackled him down, they bound him, put a bag over his head and took him somewhere far from Kadara Port. When the bag was removed and the blinding sun hit him, the Collectives stripped him of his armor. Then they all cowardly hid behind masks as they took turns beating the living shit out of him. When one was kicking his guts in, another was working his head or his hands or his legs. It all happened so quickly and for the first time in a very long time, Kaetus felt helpless as his world went black.

He wasn't sure how he was even still alive. He was certain that when he felt that armored boot to his face that he was going to end up dead. He wasn't even sure where he was or how he got there. As his partial vision began to focus further, he saw rocks, rocks and more rocks. He was completely surrounded by them. Then he realized he was in a cave. He tried to turn his head to get a better bearing on his surroundings, but he was met with an explosion of pain in his head that caused lights to flash in his eyes. He gritted his teeth and growled at the agony that struck him like lightning.

"I wouldn't move if I were you." The feminine voice echoed across the cave.

"S-Sloane?" Kaetus slurred out weakly.

"No, but rest. You're safe… for now."

Kaetus normally wouldn't take orders from anyone but Sloane, especially from strange voices, but his weakness drowned him and he lost consciousness again.

A few hours previous…

Sasha Harmon could never leave an injured animal. Even if that animal was a turian. She had fond memories of when she was a child finding squirrels and rabbits that had been hit by cars or neglected dogs and cats. Much to her mother's disapproval, she brought them all home and nursed them back to health. A turian was far from an injured squirrel or a hungry cat, but they were still living things.

She found the heap of carapace and blood in the middle of nowhere with the Kadara sun beating down on him. At first, she thought he was dead. Another victim of Kadara's "politics", but then she noticed the ever so slight rising and falling of his chest as weak, ragged breaths came from him.

She fought with her conscience for a while, knowing helping him might make enemies and Sasha couldn't afford enemies, but like always her morals won. Luckily, only a few moments ago, she found an abandoned outlaw camp, courtesy of the Pathfinder, and she found a good deal of scrap. She planned on selling it, but for now, she figured it would help with her turian. She reached into her self-built "hover-cart", made from an empty storage crate and the remains of a mining drone, and pulled out a canvas tarp that she had found covering an outlaw vehicle. She laid it out, grabbed the back of the turian's body suit and pulled him onto the tarp. She then tied her hover-cart to the end of the tarp using some cables she found and like an odd sort of train, she pulled the half-dead turian on the tarp, which pulled the hover-cart full of junk. Luckily, the little engine on the hover-cart blew the sand behind them, covering their tracks.

She grunted and heaved as she pulled the heavy ass turian back home. "My kids are not gonna like this," she muttered to herself.

To be continued...