An Alliance frigate intercepted communications from a Turian patrol on the location of Batarian raiders hiding out in the Talava system. The name Balak appeared in the communiqué. Apparently he had headquartered a Batarian terrorist camp on the planet Taitus, where the Normandy had encountered the Collector ship. The Turian patrol had disappeared, possibly taken hostage by the Batarians. There was one other thing. New evidence suggested that Balak had been involved in the incident on Mindoir, Shepard's home planet. The Alliance couldn't intervene as they were not supposed to be in the Terminus systems in the first place. However, Shepard could clean up their mess. She always did.

Shepard entered the com room. Liara's holographic projection greeted her with a frown.

"I don't like this, Shepard."

"I don't either, but what other choice do I have? Do you have anything to indicate this isn't genuine?"

"No. Balak's trail disappeared not long after you ... after he got away. If you could just give me a little more time ..."

"No, Liara. I'm waiting time as it is. How about the Alliance? Any clue as to what they are doing out here in the Terminus systems in the first place?"

"They're testing a new stealth drive, hoping to do a 'sweep' of the Terminus without notice. They've been oddly quiet in the last few months, however. Also, your name has been coming up a lot in some of their low radar communications. No red flags, but you're not as well loved as you used to be."

"Nothing lasts forever."

Shepard blew a kiss to Liara as she walked out of the room. Something was up. Something was not right, but she had to know.

A concussion blast knocked Shepaqrd off her feet just as she neared what she thought was the Batarian base. She looked up. She couldn't believe her eyes. Alliance soldiers surrounded her, 30 – 40 of them easy. Joker called in. Five Alliance frigates had come out of stealth and now had the Normandy surrounded. One soldier put his knee on Shepard's back, pinning her down. Another butted her in the head w/ a rifle, nearly cracking her helmet. "Traitor!" he yelled. Shepard flipped over, taking both soldiers down with her. She charged for cover, sending biotic shockwaves through the ranks of Alliance goons. A couple of Turians dressed in black armor strolled out onto the battlefield as if it were nothing. "Give up, Commander or we're going to open fire on your nice expensive new ship." Shepard open fired.

"Joker! Get the Normandy out of there!"

"But, Commander …"

"That's an order, Mister! Get out of there! Get a message to the Shadow Broker! Tell him what happened!"

"The Shadow Broker?"

"GO!"

Shepard began to charge again. Suddenly, the world turned bright white. Shepard fell to the ground, her eyes nearly blind. It was a flash grenade, but much more powerful than she had ever experienced. She tried to get up and fell again. All went black.

The Interrogation

Shepard's eyes opened slowly. She was still groggy from the blast. She tried to get up, but found herself strapped to a chair. The chair was not unlike the one in Citadel security where she and Thane had interrogated Elias Kelham, except there was a small cart attached. She strained at the clamps, struggling to free herself, but none would budge. Her armor was gone too. She looked down. She was wearing a black t-shirt and sweats. At least that was something. Shepard looked around the room. It was about the same size as the interrogation room back on the Citadel. There were no windows and only a small hanging lamp nestled three feet above her gave the room any light at all. Shepard tried to slip her hand through the clamps, but only managed to scratch the skin around her wrists. She pulled and squirmed, making every effort to escape. The door opened. She knew what was coming. The Normandy was safe. Liara would come … eventually. That's all that mattered.

"Commander Shepard, I'm – oh, I'm sorry. I forgot. You're no longer affiliated with the Alliance are you? It's funny. I keep hearing 'Commander Shepard' all over the media and the extranet. Your supporters just can't seem to disconnect you from your former rank, can they? We'll have to work on that, won't we, Miss Shepard."

Miss Shepard. The very sound stung her ears.

A Turian stood in front of her. He was a little shorter than most Turians she had met, but appeared bulkier in the chest at the same time. He was neatly dressed, more so than even Garrus, and wore a small medallion on his left breast, something to commemorate the Relay 314 Incident.

"Ah, you've noticed my little salute to the First Contact War. It keeps the human staff around here on their toes. Anyway, my name is Elijahnus Torel and I need to ask you a few questions."

"Where am I? Who are you? What the hell do you want?"

"Where are you? Sorry, Miss Shepard, but that information is restricted. Suffice to say that you are on some little backwater planet no one would give two fucks about. As for who we are, well, that too is privileged information. All that should matter to you is that we are a shadow organization specializing in the extraction of information from high risk individuals such as yourself. As to what we want, we simply want information on Cerberus. That's all."

"Why am I strapped into this … thing? What does the Alliance have to do with this?"

"I think you know, Miss Shepard. We used to use a chemical compound to weaken the will and make the subject, which would be you, much more susceptible to questioning. Unfortunately, when used on subjects with a stronger will, such as yours, it tended to fry their brains before we could extract all pertinent information. Therefore with individuals such as you we must use more conventional methods of information extraction. It is regrettable, but necessary.

"Lucky me."

"You're going to be fun, Miss Shepard. I can tell already. As for the Alliance, their involvement is ... complicated, but I think you know that already."

The Turrian drug a chair behind the door and sat down next to Shepard. He took out a recorder and placed it on the cart.

"Oh, and before you ask. There were never any Batarians."

The Turian sat in the chair, calmly, looking at Shepard as if she had walk in for a job interview.

"Now, Miss Shepard, we need to ask you a few simple questions. If you cooperate we should be done in a couple of days. If not, well l … heh, heh. Shall we proceed?"

Shepard looked at the Turian straight in the eye. He looked back. Finally the Turian backed down and glanced at the recorder. He turned it on.

"We want all the information you have on Cerberus. How are they organized? Besides the Illusive Man, who funds them? What are their fronts? How many operatives do they have? We also need to know why you defected to Cerberus. You fought them valiantly during your fight against Saren and the Geth, so what happened? Did you seek them out? Did they seek you out? What did they offer you? How did they turn you? What happened after your "death?" Where were you for two years? Why did you kill a fellow Spectre? What happened to your former lover, Dr. Liara T'Soni? Did you kill her too?"

"What? You think I killed Liara? Go to hell! As for that Spectre, she was –"

"Shepard, Shepard. You of all people should know. It doesn't matter what she did. What matters is that you killed her and we need to know why. But I'm getting ahead of myself as there is one last thing we need, which is the location of the Normandy SR2 and her crew. Now, I understand this is quite a laundry list of details to cover, but with your cooperation I'm sure we can get through them in a timely manner."

"FUCK! YOU!"

"For shame, Miss Shepard, for shame. I used to look up to you and now you've gone from hero of the galaxy to terrorist in only two years. What did Cerberus do to make you so loyal?"

"I never trusted Cerberus. I never trusted the Illusive Man."

"You can't really expect me to believe that, Miss Shepard, can you? You took their credits, you took their ship. You obviously care about your crew the way you ordered them to leave you behind. Did you make friends with them, Miss Shepard? I can understand that? Did you make friends with the Illusive Man? I hear he can be quite the charmer. Is that what swayed you? You say you never trusted Cerberus, make me believe it."

"You son of a bitch! I don't care what you believe."

"I think you should, Miss Shepard. You should care deeply what I believe."

"I don't care what you do to me. I am not telling you a goddamned thing."

"Heh, heh, heh … Do you know how many times that exact phrase has been uttered in this room? Since I have been stationed here, that exact same phrase as been spoken to me 67 times. Some spit at me when they say it, others lurch, well best they can under the restraints, but they always end up the same. In the end, some in mere hours, others weeks later, they beg me to kill them just to stop the pain. So, Miss Shepard, you better give a goddamned care what we do to you!"

"You sadistic bastard! When Anderson and Admiral Hackett find out about this, they'll –"

The Turian stoop up and backhanded Shepard, his rough skin cutting her cheek.

"Anderson is as good a dead himself. His association with you has made him a liability, one that will be dealt with soon. As for Hackett, he's an old fool. He still thinks you're a hero. Besides, they'll never find you here."

The Turian sat back down again calmly, just as if this were a job interview.

"Oh, and I'll get you something for that little scratch."

"I'll kill you!" Shepard tried to lunge at the Turian.

"I highly doubt that. Two things before we begin. This chair is normally infused with an electrical charge. Unfortunately, the charge broke a few days ago and we will have to divine more creative interrogation techniques for you. My apologies for the inconvenience. As for me being a "sadistic bastard," well, that I am. It makes me particularly good at my job … especially with … uh, females. They have such delicate sensibilities."|

Shepard turned away. The Turian opened one of the drawers from the cart. He pulled out a pair of needle nosed pliers.

"I like the classics, Miss Shepard."

Shepard watched as the Turian took Shepard's right hand. She struggled to loosen his grip, but couldn't. His rough skin was abrasive. Within a minute her hand was already rubbed raw.

"I am going to ask you a question, Miss Shepard and if you refuse to answer or I think you are lying to me, I will peel off the fingernails of you right hand. You are right handed, correct?"

"Fuck you!"

"I will then ask you the question again. If you lie to me or evade the question, I will peel off the fingernails of you left hand."

"ROT! IN! HELL!

"I'm an atheist, Miss Shepard. I don't believe in hell … but you are about to go there."

The Turian grabbed Shepard's right hand firmly and held her index finger out taut. He gripped the end of her fingernail with the pliers.

"If you continue to lie or evade my questions, the torture will escalate. We will keep you alive for months if necessary. Miss Shepard, this is your last chance. You are going to die in this room. Nothing will stop that. Whether you die peacefully after a few days of cooperation or after months of unspeakable horrors is entirely up to you."

Shepard clenched her teeth, readying herself for what was about to come.

"Give it your best shot, you twisted mother fucker."

"Miss Shepard. Why did you defect to Cerberus?"

Shepard thought for a moment. Even if she told the truth, the Turin would not believe her. Still, she could tell him what he wanted to know. She owed Cerberus nothing, no matter what they did. But she couldn't. She couldn't betray her crew … her friends. And as much as she despised the Illusive Man, she wasn't going to give the Turian the satisfaction. Shepard turned around and stared into his deep yellow eyes. A tiny smirk came over her face.

"Go to hell."

"As you wish, Miss Shepard."

Shepard swallowed hard. The Normandy was safe. Liara would come … eventually. That's all that mattered.

The End