A/N: WARNING! Contains some material that may be morally sensitive! Read on at your own risk.
Nos Astra had secrets. Many of them. But this was certainly unexpected.
"Jacob?"
"Hey, Commander. Sorry about all this." Jacob expressed, taking a step towards her. "Nothing personal." Shepard eyed his with suspicion.
"There never was Jack, was there?" she stated rather than asked. It was more of a trap than she originally thought.
"No, there wasn't" he confirmed. "I see you came unarmed."
"You know why I'm here, Jacob. No need to play your games."
"You knew, then?"
"Yeah, I knew." Shepard replied tartly, crossing her arms. "What I didn't know is that you're his little bitch, running his errands. How do you like it?" She saw a momentary spark of anger light his eyes, but it passed and he moved his hand away from the pistol at his hip. Shepard smirked. "Can't bring damaged goods now, can you?"
"Unlucky you picked Nos Astra as your destination." he growled. "Wrong move and not even the Illusive Man will bring you back again."
"Oh my, Jacob." Shepard mocked, looking behind the curtain, "got yourself some friends? How sweet." The mercs eyed her as her head popped out, their fingers on the triggers, waiting for the word. She shut the curtain again and looked square at Jacob. "Well, lucky for you, I didn't come here to pick a fight."
"Glad we don't have to kill each other, Shepard." Jacob smiled once again, taking out a pair of kinetic cuffs and putting them around her wrists. Shepard didn't resist. She was tired of waiting. He escorted her out of the lounge and through disappointed looking merch to his shuttle. It was small compared to the one she arrived in but it was Cerberus issue complete with similar looking leather seats. Cozy. She sat across Jacob, watching him as he watched the door close, taking away the comfort of forty plus guns pointed at her. Shepard smiled inwardly. He was actually afraid. All talk, no guts. Well, at least she had a quad to compensate for his lack of a pair.
"So, Jacob, how does it feel to be working for the devil? Did you sign a contract in blood?" He didn't answer. "Aw, come on. We're bros, remember? Spilling drinks on the Citadel?"
"Don't mock me, Shepard."
"You were so suave then. What happened? Did Cerberus shove a pole up your ass?" Shepard grinned, thoroughly enjoying herself. She leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs. Jacob remained silent as the shuttle lifted off and they were on their way. "Oh, well. Pole or no pole, help a girl out." Shepard mocked, extending her bound wrists toward him, "These are so uncomfortable."
"I have orders and I will not go against them."
"Come on, I'm unarmed. There's little I can do to you."
"No chance."
Shepard put on a fake pout.
"Fine, be that way, ass hole."
She was trained in man to man combat and looking at Jacob, he was no match for her. He was strong, she knew, and she won't underestimate him. But she had taken down people twice his size without breaking a sweat. Be vigilant, Jacob. Be very vigilant, she echoed in her mind, a wicked grin spreading across her face. As if chilled by her intentions, Jacob shifted in his seat, eying her with caution. But Shepard only put her hands behind her head and closed her eyes, biding her time. Her body was far from relaxed, though. Every muscle was ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. Waiting until Jacob relaxed, let his guard down. And when that moment came, Shepard struck with deadly precision. He was on the ground before he knew what hit him, his elbows pinned to the ground by her knees, a knife at his throat.
"Unlucky for you, Jacob, they trained me well." Shepard smiled one last time as guttural chocking sounds filled the shuttle as the knife noiselessly cut through flesh, allowing blood to flow freely out. No wonder Thane carried it around. Deadly, precise, silent. Jacob stared up at her in shock, life ebbing away, until his eyes became completely lifeless. "Too bad we couldn't be friends." She wiped the knife on Jacob's shirt and put it back into her boot. Shepard may have come without a gun, but she was not unarmed. Searching in his pant pockets, she found the key to her cuffs and took them off.
Shepard gave the dead body one last look and knocked on the cockpit window. The pilot opened it and taking advantage of his stupidity, she wrapped her arm around his throat.
"You tell your pal the Illusive Man that he'll meet me in person or you die."
The pilot stuttered in shock, clawing at her arm. Shepard put more pressure on to let him know she was dead serious.
"Alright, alright!" the pilot managed, pressing some buttons on the console and sending out the message.
"Good boy. How close are we?"
"Nearly there." he chocked out, coughing to regain his breath. Shepard looked out the small opening and saw a station. They were close. Good. She released her hold on the pilot and retreated back into the shuttle. Taking Jacob's pistol, she strapped it to her side, just in case. Show time.
The shuttle landed with a thud and Shepard had to catch herself on the seat to keep herself from falling into Jacob's blood. The shuttle door opened and she was greeted by bright lights. A man appeared in the door way and it took a moment for Shepard's eyes to adjust to recognize the face. Paling hair, creepy blue eyes, the awful chest revealing shirt.
"Illusive Man." she greeted him.
"Shepard," he drawled out, "How nice of you to visit." She caught him looking into the shuttle, expecting Jacob to come out behind her.
"Sorry about that." Shepard said, completely unapologetic as a thin stream of blood dripped over the edge onto the metal floor.
"To be expected." the Illusive Man finally said, not a hint of regret or anger. "Jacob knew what he was getting himself into. I'll find a replacement."
Shepard grimaced slightly. She may have just killed a man, but she didn't consider him to be expendable.
"You're so considerate." she replied, her words heavily laced with sarcasm.
"I try to be. What made you decide to come?" he asked her.
"The idea of killing you was just too hard to pass up."
"If you wanted me dead, I'd be dead already. You want something."
Shepard was surprised at how calm she was, talking to the man who took away everything she ever had. The one man responsible for so many atrocities committed in the name of humanity. Reason told her to just do it, shove a gun in his face and pull the trigger. But he was right, she wanted something. She wanted closure.
"You owe me a set of parents." she snarled. He didn't even flinch.
"So, you found out. How unfortunate. But you must understand, it had to be done."
"I don't buy your for-the-good-of-humanity bullshit. What you did was sick."
"Ah, yes. But you see, Shepard, from the moment of your birth, you belonged to me. Destitution is such a sad thing. I did your parents a favor. They simply paid me back in full."
"You son of a bitch." Shepard whispered, rage finally filling her. "You used them."
"I did what I had to, Shepard." he shot back, "Someone has to make the hard decisions. The Council isn't, the Alliance isn't. Cerberus has humanity's best interests at heart. I thought you'd understand that after working with us. Clearly, I was wrong."
"Still miffed about the base?" Shepard spat at him.
"You have no idea."
That was the last thing he said to her before they were completely surrounded. Shepard's reflexes took over and drawing her pistol, she took a defensive stance.
"Don't bother, it's not loaded."
Bastard! He knew she was going to kill Jacob and take his weapon.
"You are no longer of any use to me, Shepard. I told you you shouldn't have crossed me."
Something hard hit her in the back of her head, forcing her on all fours. She was completely surrounded, with only a knife at a gun fight. How stupid she didn't see this coming. Her vision blurred as someone stuck a needle into her arm and she completely blacked out.
When Shepard came to, it took her a moment to see her surroundings. She was in a cell, that much was clear. A small and cramped cell. Her arms were shackled and when she tried to move, she couldn't get very far. The shackles were attached to a wall with a short chain. The cell smelled horrible and when her eyes adjusted to the dark, she found out why. The other end of the cell was occupied by a dead batarian and a piss bucket. Shepard wrinkled her nose in disgust. Great. She was god knows where, chained to a wall, and no way out. Not only that, a quick search revealed that all her possessions were gone, down to her clothing. Instead, she wore a small tunic. Fuck.
The back of her head throbbed where she had been hit and she gingerly rubbed it, the sound of moving chains echoing through the cell. The smell of rotting flesh and urine was overwhelming and it made her nauseated. What now? She was screwed and she knew it. Shepard hadn't considered the possibility of no longer being needed, the concept was simply beyond her understanding. She tugged on the wall chain to see how well it held. The clasp wobbled but the screws held.
The waiting game again. There must be a reason why he kept her, she just had to find out what it was. A small window opened in the door as something dropped to the floor. When it shut again, Shepard moved to see what it was. Only her chain wasn't long enough to reach it. She looked at the dead batarian again, coming to realization that whatever dropped to the ground must have been food for the day. The poor bastard starved to death. A fate to be followed by her since she couldn't reach it either. But Shepard did not despair. This was not a new scenario for her. They trained each recruit to survive such situations. As such, she was trained to appreciate prison food in order to survive, keep her strength, and in the end, escape.
Eying the distance to the door, she laid on the ground, stretching her body to its full length. Her toes touched the door. Perfect. Lucky for her, whatever it was, it was solid. She pushed it gently toward her with her feet and when it was finally within reach, she took it into her hands and examined it. Taking a tiny nibble, she concluded that it was food. Dry and tasteless, but food nonetheless. Ripping part of her tunic off, Shepard wrapped it around the ration and put it in the corner. Food conservation 101. They don't always give you food in prisons. And not always solid foods. Spread it out, keep it hidden. She wasn't hungry so she kept it for later.
Step two. Prepare your mind and body for possible torture. Shepard wasn't sure if they kept her for information. But if that was the case, she was ready to keep her mouth shut. As a marine, they made sure she was prepared for all methods of information extraction. Pain was not a concern of hers. Neither was psychological torture.
Step three. Find a way out. Observe, collect, construct. The batarian was dead but that didn't mean he didn't have useful information. Shepard reached out and as carefully as she could, dragged the dead body towards her. There was little tissue damage, pointing to a recent death. Fighting back the urge to throw up, Shepard reached into his pockets to see if there was anything there. The effort proved futile as his pockets were empty. A set back, but hopefully not permanently.
Step four. Find out the reason for imprisonment. That required her to actually talk to someone. Which proved to be much easier than she anticipated as the speaker in the corner of the cell hissed to life.
"I must say, Shepard, good effort on Omega."
"Should have sent an army." Shepard retorted.
"Perhaps. However, the decision was not up to me. I'll admit, that hurt."
"Don't like others making your decisions?"
"Not that. If you weren't so drunk, you probably would have killed me."
"What are you talking about?"
"Ah. That's right. You don't know."
"Don't play the guessing game with me, I don't have the patience."
"What a shame. You've got all the time in the world now."
"So it would seem. You can start by telling me about Omega."
"Yes. Omega. Close call. You make the worst drunk, Shepard."
"Get on with it."
"You shot and nearly killed me."
"Bullshit."
"It hurt."
"I was told I shot someone important. We even recovered the body!"
"Yes, a body that I had panted there, including the bad information. I'm not stupid, Shepard. What best way to distract you than by making you chase empty leads?"
"You son of a bitch."
"So I've been told."
"What do you want with me?"
"I already told you, Shepard. You are of no use to me now. We got what we needed."
"Why keep me here, then?"
"Because you are too much trouble to set loose."
"You won't kill me. You won't set me free. You have no use for me. What else do you want?"
"Simple. I want you to die a slow and painful death. Enjoy your company."
The cell fell silent as the speaker died. No windows, no purpose, nothing. Shepard suddenly regretted doing this on her own, regretted not bringing the tracking device. Sitting there in the company of a dead batarian and a piss pot, she felt incredibly stupid. But there it was. That's what she gets for being rash and acting without thinking things through. Shepard pushed the dead batarian as far back as she could and huddled against the wall.
The shackles around her wrists were old and slightly rusted so moving her hands too much caused irritation. But sitting still just wasn't an option. She had to get out somehow. Her vision adjusted to the dark, she gauged the distance from the floor to the ceiling. A comfortable six to seven feet, allowing her to stand up straight. Question was, could she reach the speaker. If she could, Shepard figured she could hot wire it to open the door. But that would still present her with one problem. She was bolted to the wall by a two foot long chain that was at least a few inches thick. Which meant that not only would she be unable to escape, she wouldn't even be able to reach the speaker. Fuck a million times. She was stuck.
The longer she stayed in the corner, the more time stretched. She was able to keep track of days by food delivery, but as the visits became more sparse, she began to lose count. The darkness was oppressive and despite the tiredness, sleep often eluded her. Eventually, she even stopped noticing the stench. A bad sign.
"Still alive?" a voice rang through the speaker, jolting her out of a stupor. Shepard didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Her body refused to respond to her commands. Eventually, the food stopped coming and she was down to the last of her saved rations. Death was not an option, she kept telling herself. But death was certainly a welcome alternative to this. And the longer she stayed there, the more appealing it became.
The pain came next. It was subtle at first and Shepard dismissed it as hunger pains. But they grew worse, waking her with convulsions during the few minutes she was able to sleep. They came and went. Few and far in between, but growing more often, eventually leaving her completely immobile. How much time had passed? No windows, no light. She remembered being punished as a kid for stealing. Her parents shut her in the closet without food. It felt like forever, but it was only for a few hours. Has it been days? Hours? Weeks? Years?
She cried out as the pain seized her again, forcing her to double over. Her eyes watered, her whole body ached from hunger, cramps, and shackles. Shepard knew the risks, knew there was a chance she wouldn't live. The pain struck again, sharper this time. Tears streamed down her face. It was blinding until it was finally over. She felt something wet and sticky slip out between her legs. Beneath her was a bloody mess and just before losing consciousness completely, Shepard stared in shock and horror at what could only possibly resemble a month old fetus. Her hopes of only putting herself in danger dashed and smothered in the blood that now spread across the cold tile floor.