This is going to be a very experimental fanfiction, and a controversial one. I wanted to explore the possibilities of if Shepard never got saved from Mindoir by a passing Alliance scouting group, and was instead taken by the slavers. I wanted to give my own dark interpretation of the inner workings of the batarian slave trade.

With that said, I give everyone this warning now. This fanfiction includes graphic violence and gore in the future, abuse, sexism, minors involved in sexual acts, sexual assault and abuse, and mentions and instances of rape.

This is the censored version of Blood Irons, meaning all graphic sex scenes, and the worst of the gorey moments will be absent from this version. If you wish to read it uncensored, it can be found at this link on AO3:

/works/7444825


Her head hurt, and she knew that trying to help herself would result in more pain. Using her biotics would result in death. Using her voice without being spoke to first and ordered to answer would result in pain and punishment. Trying to move into a better position or place would result in punishment. If she remained a good girl, a doll for them to play with, she would be rewarded.

Eventually.

How did she get here again, among the screams for freedom and pain, chained to the inside of a cage, a dog crate, among the woman pulled into a cruel world of slavery, and abuse? How in everything great did she end up as another human whisked into the batarian's horrible slave trade as nothing more then a pretty face someone could hurt and command and mark as theirs?

She remembered vague, but large details. The screams of her friends and family in the markets as the batarians came down in droves, barely hesitating in beignning to kill every one they didn't deem good human meat for the slave trade, or good bodies to fuck into mindless fuck bags. Using horrible tech to take control of helpless colonists as they decimated her home, her planet. Family, friends, neighbors fell to the wild spray of bullets as people were slaughtered around her, a man's chest bursting into bloody chunks as he died violently behind her. A few woman vomited in disgust before being dragged away. Her friend, Vera, executed a few feet from her with a shotgun. Grey brain matter covered her legs as she watched her friend's head come clean off in a terrifying spray of bone and brains and blood. She remembered running, barely breathing through the fields, fleeing the few who came after her.

Fire. Horrible fires, the smell of burning flesh. Her sister dying before her as batarians beheaded her for being difficult. Her dead parents. The clink of dog tags in her hands, the beautiful blue of biotics fluttering around her as she defended herself, shooting wildly, trying to stay safe. Pain splintering from her legs, the painful crack of a gun against her temple.

Their praise of her power and beauty. The heavy and neverending ring of her cuffs coming together around her wrists as they dragged her from her burning home, the bodies of her dead family bleeding out in their garden.

Slavers had attacked and ripped apart Mindoir, pillaged their homes and lives, burned down their colony, kidnapped and stole children and woman, slaughtered all they could, raped the few who fought back in their cages, and left the colony burning as they got away without a shot taken at them by the Alliance.

She was a slave. A woman prize taken by batarians. She had struggled, she had fought back, and always wondered why she wasn't killed on the spot. She never would get an answer, but she was smart enough to think it was because of her biotics. She would sell for top dollar, especially with her high tech implant, and her raw but immense power. Even with the burned on mark in the middle of her back, the symbol of the batarian slaver ring that owned her, would not deter potential from buying her.

She kept her eyes down, knowing that the masters didn't like their slaves looking at them. She was a quick learner, but this was a lesson that took beatings to put into her. Beatings, lashes...

Assault.

Her hair had been cut instead of shaved, probably to show off her implant, to keep some of her appeal in her looks, the extremely short haircut making her look more silly then sexy but the batarians didn't care in the slightest. As long as she was controlled, and behaved, and followed rules, she was a good girl. She would be a good girl. Batarians of all shapes and colors walked past her cage, past the other cages and girls whimpering, but never crying. Screams would follow tears and cries. The masters didn't like the girls crying. They were making sure all their precious slaves were good girls, the control chips being passed around like drugs on the streets of Earth, or at least she assumed like they were. She had one too, if she was correct, but she wouldn't know at that instance. There wasn't a point in thinking about it, but she confirmed quietly she didn't, sneaking a gentle touch to the back of her head.

More cries, and more haunting screams of girls behind hurt because of their emotions. She would keep it together for them, follow their code to the dot. She would be the good slave girl for the batarians.

As much as she was terrified to be touched and assaulted by them, a young sixteen year old teen. She bore wounds in many places, some already becoming scars, bitter ones that made her ache and want to cry. She had to keep it together. She had to survive, she had to live through this somehow.

Her cage opened, her eyes glued to the blood stained steel beneath her knees. Sweaty hands grabbed her shoulders, demanding her to come out. She crawled out as they pulled her violently forward, coming out awkwardly onto the ground, pulled up onto her feet, her wrists threatening to crack at their violence. She did not look at them, stood with her bound hands before her. She shivered as the taller males circled her, lifting her chin so they could look at her face. She looked the batarian before her in the eyes as they looked for her, haunted but bright grey eyes looking into his hauntingly dark ones.

"Pretty eyes for a slave." he admitted, "She's still all there as well. Impressive willpower for a young little slave girl."

"Brought in from the Mindoir raid a month ago, sir," the other batarian beside her commented, "Surprisingly willing now. She was a feisty one when we got her, throwing biotic attacks at us. She's a powerful little bitch, but she knows her place."

"A biotic? How special." the older male purred, making her shake in fear. He could feel it and chuckled, "This girl may be willing, but put her in real chains and let us have our way with her, she'll squeal and cry like we want her to. Though, breaking this one would waste a great number of things for this little whelp."

She kept as still as she could despite shaking in fear, faced with the reality before her, outside of her safe cage. She would be appraised, abused, used, sold, and repeat the scarring steps. The batarian rounded her, poking and touching her nude skin, looking for marks or anything special. He paused behind her, running a finger down her spine, down the middle of her slave mark, drawing a long shiver. He chuckled coldly, groping her behind. She froze, drawing his attention to her reaction.

"Is she pure?"

The other batarian grinned wickedly, forcing her to bite her lip in fear of making a noise. "We don't know yet, Halek. Are you offering the credits to be the first taste tester?"

The man named Halek continued his circle, his hands running down her left shoulder and arm, her chin curled down just a smudge, her action rendered fruitless as he lifted her chin gently. Something suddenly shined in his eyes as he met hers. Was it hope? Warmth? It was a different emotion then the others flashed her coldly. It was just the little spark of possible hope she wished for, and held it close even if it was a farce. She was going to be loaned out regardless, and had to get her heart and mind ready for the implications of what was going to happen to her.

"How much is the price for first taste?"

"Good man!" her seller cheered, pulling out a datapad. She lowered her eyes again. "It'll be ten thousand credits to do it simply in one of the available rooms, or if you'd prefer, a fifty thousand credit charge to take your prize privately."

"Eyes up, whelp."

The words were surprisingly gentle. She couldn't tell if he realized screaming would do nothing or if he was being nice. Her eyes came back up to him, that same oddly warm but strangely gentle look was back in his eyes. She did not speak, or move any more then needed to look upon her first 'taker'. She memorized this batarian's face, this so called Halek man. She would remember him forever, immortalize his face and his words, the whisper of kindness before he truly showed his black soul. She would never forget her first loaner. His copper skin, those hauntingly kind dark eyes. A batarian in the depths of the horrendous batarian slaver trade going by the name Halek.

The one to rape her.

"She'll be worth the fifty thousand."

Her seller, her master, couldn't have grinned more.

"We'll get her ready for you. Credit chit first, Halek, if you could."

She pulled her eyes back down as she was moved once more along the long path lined with cages and batarian guards as the exchange for her dignity, her last moments untouched by cruel hands slipped away on a transaction of credits. She kept her head fixed, her eyes down, following the rules now that she was being whored out for the first time. She had heard horrible stories about the girls who went through this process as a slave. A heavy metal door opened, and she was shoved inside, slammed to her knees. She slowly started to get up before more hands took her, dragging her across the floor and to a bloodied platform. She couldn't imagine what had happened in this room, the faint scent of piss and blood lingering. Her cuffs were taken off, her scarring wrists taking the comfort as brief as it was until she was put into wrought irons.

And raised up like a pig on a meat hook.

She was raised a few inches up, her toes still on the ground, facing the door. She could only think of her position similar to how the supposed son of God had been on the cross. She was being displayed for her buyer, like a cheap decoration to be ripped apart for fun. The men who had positioned her touched and prodded, despite the risks of their actions. Hands took hold of her breasts, the bruises on her ribs being hit as his clumsy hands slid around. She dared not say a word as they touched and groped her, refusing to give them the satisfaction. She knew her face would show that effort and at it they howled in laughter before leaving in the cold, dark torture chamber. Darkness surrounded her despite the few lanterns flickering around the tables lining the walls.

The door opened once more, bathing her suspended body in light for the new arrival. She did not look up to see if it was Halek, or simply another master. She was meat to be bitten into, devoured until nothing but the shattered bones remained. She was a slave; a pretty face to be sold to the best bidder. The heavy door closed, sealing her fate with it. She steadied her breath.

"They don't have cameras in these rooms. This is why I paid extra, you know." Halek's voice broke through the darkness.

No cameras, meaning her masters would not know if she broke the rules. She hesitated in raising her eyes, or her voice.

"I don't care for their rules, and here you are safe from their attacks. Speak your mind, girl."

"...Are you going to waste the credits by speaking to me the entire time you have me?"

The batarian scoffed, and she finally raised her eyes to meet his again. They were still the same oddly gentle eyes.

"I have no real interest in raping you, human."

Her surprise showed, and he had to grin a little as she sputtered on her words, struggling just a little in her chains to try to look forward at the batarian who wouldn't be a batarian in this instance. She whimpered at the wrought irons dug into the wounds on her wrists.

"Y-you just wasted fifty thousand credits then... to just stare and talk with me?" she asked.

"I'm saving you from an even worse fate at the hands of these stains on our people. I would have bought you outright, but they want you softened up for when they put you on the market. The only thing I could do was buy a time with you."

"So... w-what are you going to do to me?"

Halek approached quietly, keeping his eyes on her face and not on her body. She shook in fear as he approached, unable to stop the fear instilled in her through the beatings, the chains, the countless abuse in its many shades. Her chains clanged as she gently wiggled, biting her bottom lip until she bit deep into the flesh, blood dripping down her chin.

"I'm going to help you. The main slave driver takes every girl who aren't bought for their bodies before they're sold. They come out of his rooms broken and empty and worthless, unless someone enjoys raping their woman until they die from the wounds inside her body, left by the main slave driver. I'm ensuring you don't have that same fate."

She shook, realizing what his words implied. "S-So you're going to..."

"I told you already," he snapped firmly, "I have no intention to rape you. We're going to fake it, however, there is one thing I will have to do to make it look like I did."

He went for the bag he had brought in, making her squirm as he pulled out a phallic object. She whimpered in fear, and he immediately looked to her with his gentle eyes, setting the bag on the platform she tiptoed on. He held it up for her to see, despite the fearful shaking and her whimpers, her eyes beginning to close.

"It's not what you wish, but if you come out of this dungeon without a mark on you, or blood, they'll make sure you have it on you. We're going to stage this, so I need to make it genuine-looking."

She took a shuddering breath, steadying herself as she pushed her fear back for a moment. "So... you're going to make it look like you raped me... by using a toy on me and other things?"

"Its the only way. I'm sorry. I realize you'd never consent to something like this, but it'll save you trouble elsewhere if it's done."

She sighed and closed her eyes, tightening her fists as tears slipped down her face. She would be raped but not violently, though it would save her from future horrors, at least in theory. She sobbed softly, shaking her head before looking up to the ceiling. She took a shuddering breath before looking to Halek. She had to face the music of this dark play, and it called for her defilement. She thanked the air at least her 'first time' would be with a human sympathizer.

"J-just get it done, please. I don't want to be in these chains anymore, please."

Halek nodded gently. "I will try to be gentle, but I may have to get rough to make things look real, alright miss...?"

She had to think, so used to simply being called 'that biotic bitch'. She took a breath as he spread her legs, their plan to help her escape ruinous sexual assault ready to begin. She shivered as the plain toy pressed against her inner thigh. He was trying to get her used to its feeling without diving in first. For a batarian, unlike his brethren beyond the door, he was gentle and considerate, his rough palms trying to calm her shivering and shaking. She wouldn't ever stop, but it would help her just enough for what was to come. The head of the plastic toy poked between her between her thighs at her entrance, and she flinched. She had to get the words out before they were lost to the pain.

"S-Shepard... Katherine Shepard."

"Miss Shepard. I'm Halek Var'harren."

"A-as much as this is the worst time for introductions," she chuckled, sniffling as her tears fell once more, "It's nice to m-meet you, Halek."

"The feeling is mutual. Perhaps if I can gather the needed credits, I can get you out of here, but for now... forgive my next actions, Shepard. Take a deep breath."


"W-what are you doing?" she questioned as he knelt down, pushing her right thigh out farther to see it.

"Adding to the illusion. If one of those men had taken you, it would have been a much more bloody event. I'll have to add claw marks, so some pain is still needed but otherwise it is over. Do not worry about your shaking, little biotic girl. It'll help you."

This was the part where she simply hung there from her chains, an act she could do. Pain struck her limbs and her heart, coping with the act just committed against her body for her safety. She knew it would help, that it would save her, and now she had to play the part of the abused, raped slave. She let herself whimper in pain, let her voice be heard as Halek dripped blood down her thighs, moving behind her to grip at her hips, digging his fingers into her skin. She yelped and cried, her legs trying to thrash and kick. As blood trickled down her sides, his kind hands soothed her irritated and pain-filled muscles. Just a little more, and she would be out of the chains, back in her cage, and out of Halek's hands forever. She looked like she had been viciously beaten, her bruises from earlier making it seem more real.

"There we go. That should keep them sated." Halek announced. She gave a weak smile, shaking still in fear, in pain, and in hope.

"Thank you..."

"Goodbye, little biotic girl."

She bowed her head once again, letting her tears run as he left, boasting to the guards just outside of what he had just done. She knew his words were false, the cover he would throw over their eyes to make their fake sexual encounter look as real as any other. Two batarians came for her a few minutes after, lowering her to her feet, before she fell to her knees. Dragged up and out of the room, she was taken not to her cage but to a smaller room, with a few stalls to the left, showerheads scattering the wet tiled floors.

A bathroom.

"Clean yourself up. Blood and semen smells like shit."

She nodded gently, cooperating with them as she was set under one showerhead, shrieking in surprise as hot water hit her head, soothing her hard muscles. She sighed gently, ignoring the batarian's eyes as she washed herself of the blood, and dirt and grime she had accumulated in the past month. It felt like a dream, and it was a great relief. She didn't get too long under the wonderful spray of water as she was lifted from its kind touch, and handed a surprisingly nice towel and told to dry off. She did as ordered of course, towel drying her hair as they thrusted a pair of shorts, and what she assumed was a sports bra, and told to dress.

Actual clothes... it meant she was going out on market. She had to look presentable, like the shining little precious doll she was. She tried her best with her hair in terms of drying it, and stepped into her shorts, wiggling in them briefly before slowly tugging her shirt onto her slightly damp skin. The batarian masters did nothing to rush her, or force her, drawing confused eyes to their chests before lowering them again and finishing the task ordered.

Eyes down, her hands once again bound in cuffs, though these were fresh, clean ones. She was led out with other woman dressed in a similar fashion. Some were clean, and others were not. She did not know where they were being led, but it had a crowd-like roar coming from its large open doors. As darkness blazed into light, she struggled to look through the blinding lights, adjusting for a moment before opening her eyes to a horror scene.

The large room was lit in blinding lights, a platform rising above the ravenous crowd of batarians, humans, and various mercenary groups, lines of slaves being dragged in from different areas, all piled onto the various platforms to be displayed. As her group was led out, the crowd turned their excitement to the woman, all hollering and screaming for them, some shouting their desires, their needs. She was glad that she had not eaten recently, as she would have hurled them. The lingering scent of semen stuck in the air, and she quickly realized what was about to happen to the woman surrounding her, lining up beside her as they were shown off like antique wares.

They were going to be sold into the worst kind of slavery.

Shepard kept her eyes open while many closed them, knowing she was safe now. The batarians around her were announcing the sale, and how some were obviously tagged to be sold at a later date, for astronomical prices due to their rarity, their value. They had the girls turn their backs to their customers, describing the markings on their backs, and how they ID'd the girls not for sale but for show, as a tease. Her master came to her, and asked to her to turn. Her mark was special, a rarely used one as she was among the few biotic humans the slavers had ever had their hands on. Many annoyed cries came when they announced she would not be for sale.

She grimaced as she looked at the crowd that originally had her back, and hid her shaking at the horrible sights before her.

She closed her eyes immediately, trying to stop the smell from entering her nose, avoiding the horrible sight of the public horrors happening before her eyes.

"Your time will come, your biotic bitch," her master whispered in her ear as the girls around her, save for the others saved for the better sale time, disappeared, "Your new owner will use you like an omni tool endlessly, I know it."