Mass Effect is owned by THEM. You know who THEM are. BioEAWare…
Revan, Thermopile System, Artemis Tau Cluster, 02 May 2175
Author's Note: I will be discussing slaves, and I went with one of the worse-case scenarios I could think up of for this chapter. I have sadly seen slaves in the Middle East from Pakistan and Iraq as well as from other places in Southeast Asia. While it might not be chattel slavery, debt bondage, force marriages, indentured servitude, coerced servitude, and religious bondage are very real. Think I'm bullshitting you? ISIS thinks it's funny to capture Yazidis and force them into slavery, and about half of the 'insurgents' we faced in the Iraq War were more than likely coerced and threatened with punishment to their family members if they didn't dig holes and plant bombs to hurt American Soldiers thanks to the remnants of the Ba'ath Party, Al-Quada, and other fun-filled terrorist groups. There are more slaves today than have ever existed in the history of the world prior to 1950 put together, and the last legitimate 'slave' country (Mauritania) outlawed the practice in 2007.
And there's your fucking Social Studies lesson, kiddies.
Alliance Frontier Marshall Deputy Samantha Lynn Collins saw a sight that broke her heart and bled her soul.
A part of her was already regretting her bravado with Centurion Kryik, reasoning with him to gain access into the cargo container. She had no illusions about what was held behind the door that would lead them to the detachable cargo container; it would contain slaves. She had seen a few pictures of what some earlier efforts had netted whenever the Systems Alliance military or some police bust had dropped in on a slave camp, the members trying to save the people fettered. Honestly, some of those pictures had made Sam nauseated just to look at them. She needed to get over that, considering that the base itself might hold slaves. Who was to say she didn't open a door to see a dozen held, locked up, penned, corralled, or imprisoned. She wasn't lying when she said she needed to see it in case she stumbled upon it. How would she react would depend on the situation, but being in the middle of a raid or an op and freezing due to her innocence in such things was a good way of getting her killed. This was the safer, more preferred method. She needed to see it with her own eyes to make herself immune to any future horror she might come across in the foreseeable future.
But this? God, Kryik was right; it was worse than what she had originally guessed.
The slaves were very young children.
Collins stepped into the cargo container, measuring thirty meters by ten, a rectangular shape in which most of it was devoted to the action of enslaving another sentient being. The Deputy had honestly been picturing prison cells with people in it. But that wasn't the case. Instead, she found herself looking at bolted medical beds with tiny bodies strapped to their surfaces, with various fluids being fed intravenously to the 'patients'. There were forty tables in the cargo container and each had something interred upon it.
"Oh God... oh God no..." Collins breathed out as she looked upon the nearest table to her, sitting but a meter away from the access door, right in front of her. The Deputy felt her bottom lip quiver in grief and anger as she took a few steps forward to see what was absconded there. On the table was a tiny body perhaps half a meter or so in length, and perhaps only weighing in at ten kilograms in weight. The body was covered in what almost appeared to be whitish fur, though she could see the sinews and tissues of flesh underneath. She almost didn't recognize that it was a baby Turian until she looked at its head, seeing a pair of small mandibles resting along the jaw and mouth, the lack of a crest throwing her off as well. She could see three small talons that were the fingers curled upon themselves, the Turian baby lying naked without any kind of blanket or covering to keep it warm or clean. Like an object, Collins realized to her abject disgust. She had honestly been picturing adults; useful, work-capable adults, like in the old pics from history books about Earth. Not that it was any better, but that had been what she had been expecting. To see children... no, babes?
She wanted to throw up.
"Some barefaced, sire-vraking, clocea is going to burn for this." Centurion Kryik growled in the most menacing tone Sam had ever heard in her life, to include human beings. A look at him showed the Turian practically grinding his mandibles hard against his jaw, like a man gnashing his teeth in anger and rage. "And I'm going to watch it. And enjoy." Collins remember hearing once that Turians took crimes against children extremely seriously, and that the punishment for willfully harming a 'hatchling' was akin to skinning someone alive and cauterizing the wounds just to make it last longer and hurt worse. Turians obviously did not fuck around. While she didn't have that kind of personality or mentality, Collins couldn't say she disagreed with Kryik's sentiment. She wanted someone to pay dearly, and a life sentence in prison just didn't seem so lucrative at the moment. She saw what had to be an Asari daughter by the Turian child, giving the same deplorable dignity, seemingly asleep. In fact, of the forty children in the cargo container, they all appeared to be asleep.
"Chemical sleep?" Sam asked, frowning. If it was meant to keep the children docile and undiscovered, it seemed like a likely purpose. But she noted that each of the patients wore some sort of steel band around their heads, to the equivalent of their foreheads for each of the species. The band had several wires connected to it, running to the beds underneath. "I don't see babies being a flight risk."
"It isn't for escape attempts." The Special Forces Warrior replied, his flanged voice ugly. "That's a Cortex Containment Modulator. It's meant to erase memories and implant code words to promote docility and obedience into the workers to ensure both efficiency and a reduced risk of revolt or escape."
"They're... indoctrinating them?" Collins gasped in horror, now really feeling sick. This was beyond anything she could even comprehend. It wasn't bad enough that they kidnapped these children? Sold them to slavery? No, the bondage was implanted into their mind, articulated into their brains. She was uncomfortably reminded of a classical literature story by Adolphus Huxley called Brave New World in which humans were fed subliminal messages to promote their social caste system based upon their intelligence, brainwashed into believing that their socialist-propaganda way of life was for the best, and no other option was available. Brainwashing children into being drones? How much fucking sicker could this get? Collins noted that, while all the Asari were deemed 'females' anyhow due to their race, the twenty or so human children that she saw on various tables were girls. "Kryik? Are these Turian hatchlings... are they girls? I don't know how to distinguish the difference."
"Yes. All of them." The Centurion replied, and then his head snapped over to look at her. "The human hatchlings, too?"
"Yes. All girls." Sam felt her heart almost stop in her chest as a cold, cold feeling filled within her. Sex slavery was her first thought, but she remembered seeing that there were 'thirty units' from the Turian Hierarchy. Thirty Turian pleasure slaves didn't exactly seem... likely. Turians were of dextro-chilary, and as far she was aware, weren't compatible with mating with any other race, not even the Quarians, in which there were no 'units' of nor likely would be due to their lifestyle of living in personal environmental containment suits. Asari could technically mate with anything, so an Asari sex slave made sense, especially in the numbers they ship had reported. Supposedly, human females were in particular demand as well. But there were Elcor present, as well as... some lizard-looking race that she thought might be Drell, though she wasn't sure. Sam didn't know if Drells possessed penises or not, but none of the three seemed to possess anything suggesting it. "Oh God... I think they're breeders." Collins realized, the thought clicking into place. "Brainwashing them into creating a literal slave race. A human woman can have as many as twelve children in her lifetime if conditions allow it. Twenty women in twenty years can literally quadruple the population, and another twenty years you'd see an increase literally in the thousands range. No need to chattel or capture if you can literally grow your own in your own backyard."
"Spirits." The venom in Kryik's voice was gone, replaced with horror. "I think you're right, Deputy. The Salarians are obviously male, as females are very rare, perhaps one in ten thousand. But if they had a Dalatrass in their possession, all the males would be subjected to her influence and control, as well as creating clutches of perhaps fifty at a time." Collins hadn't known that, and the thought was very disturbing indeed. "This needs to be stopped. Now."
"Agreed." The Deputy replied as she looked over the captured children, her heart breaking as she took a step back. As much as she wanted to pull them all away right then and there, she'd have no idea what to do with a litter of babies ranging several species. At the least, they were being fed intravenously and kept asleep. They were safe for the time being, and protected until whomever they called to rescue them came. "I'm sorry, little ones." Sam whispered, blinking away tears as she took another step back. God, and this had only been the first cargo container. Were the other three like this? She found that she really didn't want to know. "Hold on. Help is here, and rescue will be on the way."
"But first, we have a lot of justice to dispense." The Centurion growled, the venom returning, strong enough to scar steel.
"Agreed."
Alliance Frontier Marshal Deputy Samantha Collins stood in the airlock of the Kolwoon-Class transport vessel with Blackwatch Centurion Kryik as the ships' automated system began the process of decontamination and atmospheric equalization as they prepared to disembark the ship and enter into the slavers base that was perhaps only thirty meters away from the nose of the spacecraft. Collins had discovered its exact location on the ship's Log, and now she and the Blackwatch Turian were going to exploit it. With extreme prejudice.
"Kryik? I need to ask you something." Collins spoke up as the two meter by two meter containment room that represented the airlock began to bombard them with a fairly intense level of x-rays and vaporized bleach to kill any bacteria and viruses that might be in the air, as well as disinfecting their respective armors. They were both completely suited up, their helmets attached as they waited for the ninety second decontamination cycle to process through. "I have no illusions of what you are or what you plan to do, which isn't exactly allowed in the Systems Alliance Ministry of Justice Code of Ethics." The Turian merely looked at her through his darkened visor, disguising whatever facial expression he might have. "All I ask is that there are no blatant executions or torture, and I would like it if we could capture someone higher up in the meritocracy of this base, someone who has a chance of knowing more than just the going-on's of this base."
"Meaning?" Well, at least he wasn't dismissing her completely out-of-turn.
"I doubt this is the only base, the only ship, or the only crew." Collins surmised as the x-ray scanner swept the small containment room, running over them slowly. "There are other locations, other involved personnel, other officials being bribed and profiting from this. This isn't a small operation for the kind of money they are making and the kind of effort they are involved with. Somewhere out there in the black, there is a capo who is staring at his terminal at each transaction, counting his profits and benefiting from the misery of slaves. One of these men may know something. Stamping this base is retribution, but stamping out this entire operation?" That had the Turian slowly nod his helmeted head. "I want to save these people, but I also want to save all the ones that might be involved with future raids and kidnappings. For every slaver we stop, that could be dozens of people we save from bondage each. But a head honcho? A financier? A decision-maker?" She let that sink in, and the Turian shifted in place. "We nab one of those, and that's tens of thousands of people we protect that will never get to know that fear and misery. Maybe even more."
"I understand." The Special Forces Warrior let out a long breath, obviously doing his best to get his temper in check, to be professional. "And... you're correct. Why settle for menial labor and crumbs when we can get the bosses and the whole herd? I will... restrain myself. If we find the Captain of this ship or this base, we will subdue them to exploit whatever intelligence they may happen to have."
"Thank you." The vaporized bleach had finally stopped spraying from the ceiling nozzles as the airlock vaccumized itself to suck in the purification vapors, as well as the breathable atmosphere. The x-ray scanner had finished as well as the cycle continued by equalizing with the outside atmosphere; the deadly mixture of methane and ammonia at three times normal Earth air pressure. Sam bore no love for this toxic planet, and the soon she was off, the better. Who would have thought Therum would be more pleasant-sounding with its higher-than-comfortable temperatures, ear-popping lower air pressure, and higher-than-normal gravity? At least she could walk outside without a pressure suit.
The deconn cycle finished as the exterior doors of the Kolwoon opened to reveal the pea soup landscape of Revan, the ever-present fog of methane and ammonia making everything an ugly greenish color as Centurion Kryik walked out first, disembarking the vessel with his Cipritine Armory Vapor Assault Rifle in his talons while Collins herself had her Nexus 2169 Lawbringer reading in her own hands, fully charged and ready to engage any targets. She had opted for its made mode of operations, the phasic round that would short and lock up a suit of armor or a hardsuit with its electrically-charged rounds, while the rounds themselves were designed to strike at being and cause them to be staggered, fall back, and be injured as oppose to penetrating armor and potentially killing criminals or innocents who might get in the crossfire. Despite that it was meant to be a sub-lethal weapon, it did come with a lethal fire option that was actually rather underpowered compared to most military assault rifles and high-powered civilian models. It wasn't very good at breaking shields or penetrating armor, but it was meant to give an officer of the law the ability to kill if needed. Honestly, the phasic option was a much better choice for something such as this, where criminals were likely to be wearing armor with VI suites installed in them and hardsuits with environmentally regulated conditions. Such opponents she could disable with just a shot or two in the chest area, locking up servos and shutting down VI-driven systems, practically freezing a person solid, or if they were tough enough to fight through not having any electronic assists in their armor, would severely reduce their speed and capabilities.
Her heart was beating quickly in her chest at the thought of the impeding battle she would soon be joining, the chance to serve and protect in a way she never thought possible. She was about to enter into a compound filled with slavers, with a Blackwatch Centurion at her side! A part of her was excited, a part of her was nervous, and a part of her wanted to throw up in her helmet. She was about to go and kill men, and men were about to try and kill her. A part of her mind knew that this might be a possibility when becoming a Marshal, but she had never thought it would be so soon, without any back-up or other Marshals at her side. This was the kind of shit that had Systems Alliance Marines pumped up and howling for blood, not Frontier Marshals excited and elated at the thought of engaging a potential shitstorm of bullets. Though she didn't want to say it out loud, she was rather glad she had Centurion Kryik with her as she followed in his wake, the Turian moving towards the entrance of the base. How many ops like this had the Special Forces Warrior had? She wasn't about to ask, but the Turian didn't look concerned or worried. That in itself was a relief. She might not have been exactly thrilled with the thought of fighting alongside a Turian, but she wasn't stupid; she'd take any help she could get when outnumbered and possibly outgunned.
The walk across Revan's surface was silent, no words passing in between the Marshal and the Centurion as they approached the base, which began to appear through the dense, soupy fog of the toxic world. The base was actually a colony starter kit pre-fab building, one of those self-efficient models that towered at some twenty-five meters in height and encompassed something like two hundred thousand square meters. It was obviously Volus-made, considering the squat, blocky appearance of it, as oppose to a human-made one that was more in the shape of a cut-top pyramid to avoid structural damages due to wind and gravity. Collins was uncomfortably reminded that these buildings were about the same size as a department store, could house thousands of people, and were built to keep a population self-sufficient through hydro-recycling, hydroponics, atmospheric exchangers, and its own inclusive power supply. In other words, they weren't going to stave the slavers out or intimidate them with some sort of blockade. It was like having to clear out an Amazon Department Store built to last fifty years without ever having to ask for shipments, and she was uncomfortably aware just how big one of those could be. Clearing one with just two people? Sam prayed to God that there were hallways, small rooms, and a good deal of defensive positions that they could take advantage of. She hadn't been trained for this level of combat.
She could be dead in the next five minutes, and the thought didn't sit well with her.
There are over a hundred captured souls aboard that ship that didn't ask to be kidnapped and enslaved, the Deputy reminded herself, remembering the sight of human babies, Asari daughters, and Turian chicks laying naked and strapped to metal tables like... like merchandise up for sale. God only knows if there are more in that base, but there are people who need rescuing, and you are an Officer of the Law! The fear of death subsided slightly at the thought, reminding her why she was here, why she was walking towards what was undoubtedly a slaver stronghold. There were sentient beings profiting off the misery and enslavement of others, thinking only God knew what to justify their actions. They were breaking the law and getting away with it. Worse, they probably flouted the fact, thinking themselves on top of their game, bribing the right people and finding the right routes. Sam wondered what they did when they heard some child beg, crying for their parents. Did they even feel bad? Did they laugh? God forbid, did they take advantage of the situation? All the children they had found had been females, and it wasn't too unreasonable to believe that some of the slavers had disgusting tastes. That filled her with fury.
No, this needed to be done, and she was going to see it through, from the moment the front door opened to the final click of the handcuffs around the perpetrators' wrists. Death was too good for them, and she'd be damned if she were going to die and fail those children.
"'Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; or close the wall up with our English dead'." Sam spoke softly to herself, remembering reading Henry V when she was a teenager. "'In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility; but when the blast of war blows in our ears, then imitate the action of the tiger'."
"What's that from?" Kryik asked, startling her for a moment. Collins hadn't thought she had spoken it loud enough for the vox to pick it up.
"A human play, from one of the most celebrated human writers in history." Collins replied, seeing the outline of the pre-fab in front of her, frowning. "King Henry the Fifth invaded a country that tried to have him assassinated with something like half to a third of the French forces. Despite invading by sea and hosting a force mostly composed of archers, the English killed something close to eight thousand men while losing something like less than two hundred. It was one of the largest upsets in human warfare."
"Appropriate." The Centurion replied as they walked towards the main facility door, where another airlock stood before them. "Tell your King Henry we could use a little of that English Spirit for what we're about to do."
"I think he would agree and be happy to lend a hand were he here." Sam replied softly as they moved towards the door, taking one side as the Turian took the other. "'Here I abandon peace and desecrate law. Fortune, it is you I follow. Farewell to treaties, for from now on war shall be my judge. Morituri te salutant'." The Turian looked across from the door to look at her through his darkened visor. "I thought Julius Caesar would be appropriate."
"I didn't get the last part translated." The Centurion asked, curious.
"We who are about to die salute you."
"Sounds good to me." The Special Forces Warrior replied as he grabbed the airlock release lever and rotated it, gaining them access to the colony starter kit pre-fab building that was being used by slavers, and assaulted the building.
A/N: "Once more unto the breach, dear friends..." is a quote from William Shakespeare's Henry V, and was indeed about the Battle of Agincourt. The British were outnumbered about 4 to 3 to 6 to 1 (depending on records) and trounced the French on their own territory. Henry would later marry the French King's daughter and give birth to Henry VI/II, who rules England and France.
"Here I abandon peace and desecrate law..." is a quote from Julius Caesar, attributed when he crossed the Rubicon to invade Rome itself. It was Roman Republic law that no Army could do so, but Caesar did and became the tyrant we all know and love. Considering he conquered like half of France, England, built a bridge to sack the Germans across the Rhine while as Pope, Military Governor, and General, I somehow wonder why the Romans were surprised by all this.