A/N: Greetings!
I have been waiting for this for a long time. This part of the plot line has been planned for the better part of four years now, and it is so nice to FINALLY be able to bring it to you. After much deliberation, it made more sense (and flowed better) as two separate parts. So this is part 1 of 2. Part 2 will be posted some time this weekend.
It's starting to feel like the old days, when I was writing every week. It's so nice to be back in my groove. So, I'm gonna take a moment here and resort to begging. Please, please, please tell me what you think. And stay tuned, because the next part is almost done.
Much love! ~Jamie
"This is what we do, who we are. Live for nothing or die for something." – John Rambo, Rambo IV
Chapter Thirty-Eight – Captured
Beads of sweat mingled with salty tears, indistinguishable from one another as they combined in cruel harmony and coursed down Shepard's swollen face. She sniffed and blinked her eyes repeatedly, trying to clear her vision and focus on the pair in front of her.
"This doesn't have to be hard, Commander," the human said. His voice sounded tinny and faraway, as it was filtered through the full metal helmet the coward was hiding behind. His eyes, nothing more than two glowing yellow orbs, bored into her.
Shepard panted and sniffed again. "Yeah?" She nodded as if carefully considering his words, and then narrowed her eyes at him hatefully. "Go fuck yourself."
The turian standing next to him stepped forward and delivered a solid right hook to her left cheek. Her head flew back, smacking against the chair she was tied to. The pain was so swift and intense that it felt like her eye socket going to explode, but she bit back her cry and glared at him rebelliously.
As he moved back to give her time to reconsider, Shepard caught her reflection in the mirrored faceplate of his helmet and winced. Her face, which was already pretty mangled from whatever sick science experiments Cerberus had inflicted upon her, was now almost unrecognizable. Her cheeks were a mottled combination of red where the stitches had separated and exposed gaping wounds, and deep purplish-black bruises covered the rest from being constantly pummeled. Her right eye was nearly swollen shut, and her lips were dry and cracked from both the lack of water and her captors' relentless fists.
The last time Jane remembered being this beat up was during the final stretch of N-School. She had been subjected to all sorts of gruesome torture techniques at the hands of the ICT instructors. Starvation, waterboarding, physical beatings, psychological warfare. In order to achieve the elite rank of N7, she had had to prove that she could withstand any situation she might find herself in and still be able to keep Alliance secrets safe. It had nearly killed her then, but she'd prevailed, and it was this training she fell back on now.
She let her head fall forward, taking several deep breaths before she raised it and gazed at them through watery, yet defiant eyes.
"Okay," she wheezed. She paused long enough to spit some of the blood that had accumulated from her mouth onto the floor at their feet. "Okay. How 'bout you both go fuck each other, then?"
This time it was the human who sprang into action. He lunged toward her, driving his closed fist into her abdomen. Shepard doubled-over, hardly having time to gasp for air before the man grabbed a handful of her hair and savagely yanked her head back so that she was forced to look up at him.
"I'm through playing games with you," he hissed through clenched teeth.
"Aww, and here I thought we were having so much fun."
The turian made a move to hit her again, but the human held up his hand and waved him off. Tightening his grip in Shepard's hair he leaned closer and growled, "I'm not gonna ask you again. What did Cerberus do to you, and why were they going to sell you to the Collectors?"
"Made me into a pin cushion? Turned me into a walking nightmare? How the hell should I know? I was unconscious for ninety percent of the time."
"And you didn't think to ask during the other ten percent you were awake?"
"I wasn't exactly in the condition to be asking a lot of questions," Jane replied caustically. Heaving a heavy sigh, she continued, "Look, assholes. You can see the stitches just as easily as I can—well, what's left of them after your fabulous handiwork anyway. Your guess is as good as mine. So you might as well stop wasting your time, because I don't know anything."
"She's right," the turian groaned. "We're getting nowhere."
"At least one of you has a brain," she quipped.
"Enough!" the human snarled, tossing her head roughly to the side. He circled around and leaned over her, placing one hand on each side of her chair so that he could bring his helmeted face within centimeters of hers. "You won't be able to keep up this act indefinitely. Sooner or later, you'll break."
"Don't count on it."
He smirked and raised his hand, trailing the back of his gloved fingers lightly down the side of her face. "Don't be so sure." The sinister tone in his voice coupled with the unexpected gentleness of his hand was infinitely more terrifying to her now than if he had just punched her and gotten it over with. "There are other ways of making you talk."
Shepard set her jaw and scowled back at him, shifting her weight in the chair to sit forward enough that the tip of her nose touched his faceplate. "You better pray I don't get out of this," she said lowly. "Because if I do, I'm coming after you first."
The human laughed, an inherently evil sound borne out of frustration and anger over having failed his mission to extract information out of her. "We'll see." Then he followed up on his original intent and struck her in the temple with his elbow before he straightened up and motioned to his partner. "Come on. We'll go update the Shadow Broker and give her some time to think things over."
Shepard's bravado evaporated as soon as the two of them were out of sight. Her entire body went slack, and she dropped her head against the chair, releasing a strangled sigh. They'd been "interrogating" her for hours. Every inch of her body throbbed, and the pounding and dizziness in her head was enough to make her want to vomit and pass out.
But she couldn't lose consciousness. There was no telling what the Shadow Broker's agents would do to her while she was out. She didn't even want to think about the human's unspoken threat. No, she needed to stay awake. Needed something to keep her mind occupied.
Her thoughts drifted to her crew. Had they received Feron's message? Had they managed to track down the base, only to arrive and find it empty? And what of Feron? She didn't know if he was alive or dead. Had the selfless act of protecting her come at the cost of his life?
.x.x.x.
Four days earlier….
"Commander!"
Feron glanced up in alarm as Jane limped through the open doorway into the cafeteria where the drell was sitting.
The room was large, no doubt constructed to house an army of Shadow Broker agents. When full, it was probably a very cheerful and bustling place, but now the metal accordion doors had been shuttered over the serving stations, and all but a select few of the lights had been dimmed. The tables and chairs sat eerily empty, the fake foliage in the planter boxes seeming oddly out of place. As Jane hobbled toward the table, she could almost fancy hearing the remnants of voices echoing from meals long since passed.
Feron jumped out of his seat, the nutrient bar he'd been eating quickly forgotten in his attempts to help her to the table.
"You should be lying down," he chastised her.
"I'm okay. I'm actually feeling a lot better today," she replied. Still, the simple act of walking from one room to the other tired her out more than she cared to admit, and so she let him take her by the elbow and gratefully accepted his support as she sat down across from where he'd been sitting. "Besides. I needed to get away from that room for a while. I'm going crazy staring at the same four walls day in and day out."
He returned to his chair and regarded her thoughtfully. "The rate at which you are recovering is remarkable."
Jane shrugged. "I've always been a fast healer."
Feron's brow raised skeptically.
"But this is fast even for me," she agreed. "I'm pretty sure it has something to do with whatever Cerberus did to me. I'll have to have Dr. Chakwas examine me when I get back to the Normandy to know for sure."
"Hopefully it won't be too much longer. I managed to get the message out successfully, but with the electromagnetic interference, we have no way of knowing if they received it, and if they did, whether or not they're on their way."
"You've done everything you can, Feron. Thank you. If it hadn't been for you, I'd be on some Collector vessel right now."
The two fell silent for a moment, each contemplating how different things would have been if the drell hadn't had a change of heart.
"Have you thought about what you're going to do now?" she asked. "You know, since you're a fugitive now."
He fingered the edge of the nutrient bar wrapper and shook his head. "No. Try to stay off the grid, I guess."
"You should join us," Jane said suddenly.
He lifted his head, staring at her questioningly. "Me?"
"Yeah. Half of our team is composed of mercenaries, criminals, and assassins. You'd fit right in. And to be honest, I could use someone like y—did you hear that?"
Feron leaned forward, craning his head as he strained to pick out any subtle changes in the atmosphere around them. The hum from the fluorescent lights and the steady sound of water dripping in the distance was all that drifted back to them.
"I could have sworn I heard a door close or something. Hmm." Jane shook her head. "Must be hearing things."
"It's a large base. It's normal for things to make sound as they settle."
"I guess…."
It was probably the fact that they were all alone inside that huge base that had Shepard suddenly so uneasy. After spending numerous years on military ships, where things were always noisy and busy, she had a hard time adjusting to the quiet. In the past, when things got quiet it usually meant there was a problem.
A few more seconds stretched by uneventfully, and when nothing happened Jane got up and sighed. "Okay, maybe you're right. I'm not completely ready to be up and about for extended periods of time. I think I'll go lay back down for a while. Oh, don't look at me like that," she said, playfully cuffing him on the shoulder when he shot her a smug, I-told-you-so look.
"Whatever you say, Commander," Feron chuckled.
The ambush occurred before either of them knew what was happening. A small army of Shadow Broker agents burst through the cafeteria doors, guns trained on the unsuspecting pair with expert precision. Jane barely had time to register the danger before the first shot was fired.
She dove out of the way, hitting the ground behind a planter with a hard thud. The impact sent ripples of pain through her entire body. Behind her, Feron had upended the table and was using it as makeshift cover.
"Shit," she hissed through clenched teeth as she pushed herself up into a low crouch and peeked through the artificial plant's leaves to assess their options. Ten agents, and they were already spreading out, moving to surround them. "Shit!"
They were powerless, caught unawares at their most vulnerable point. She didn't have a weapon or even proper clothing, let alone any armor that might protect her against the onslaught. She was still wearing the hospital gown, for hell's sake! And while Feron kept his sidearm on him at all times, his pistol rounds were largely ineffective against the agents' more powerful rifles and tech armor.
What she did have, however, was her biotics. At least, that was if Cerberus hadn't done anything to disable her amp. Angling her body so that she faced Feron, she locked her gaze on the asari that was running toward the table and channeled all her energy. A blur of biotic blue streaked across the room as she charged, barreling into the asari with enough force that she staggered backward. Shepard quickly followed up any counter-attack by driving the heel of her palm into the agent's nose. The asari crumpled, her pistol clattering uselessly to the ground beside her.
Feron landed a well-placed headshot to a human cocky enough to go without a helmet, and when he collapsed and his buddy turned to watch him, Jane used her biotics to pull the chair that was next to him and hit him squarely in the chest. When the human reeled back, leaving his chest wide open, Feron didn't hesitate and plugged him with two rounds.
Three down….
Shepard's insides were screaming as she scooped up the asari's discarded pistol and ducked behind the table to catch her breath.
"We can't stay here!" she shouted. Two more soldiers went flying into the air as she heaved a shockwave across the room. "We need to get someplace where our backs are against the wall!"
As if to iterate her point, a salarian tuck-and-rolled into position behind them and fired a series of shots at their hunched forms. Both Jane and Feron scrambled out of the way, but not before a round landed in the drell's upper arm.
"GAH!"
Still laying on her side, Shepard returned fire and the salarian went down.
"Are you okay?" she asked, crawling over to examine his arm. Blood was already oozing from the wound, coursing a warm, slick trail over his elbow and down his forearm.
"I'll be fine," he assured her. Then he added somberly, "Shepard, you need to get out of here."
"Like hell! I'm not leaving you here!"
"We both know you're in no condition to fight, Commander," Feron said. "My ship is in the hangar. I'll keep them distracted. You make a run for it."
"Feron, if I leave you're as good as dead," she argued. "I can't do that—I can't leave you to the die after all you've done for me!"
A bullet whizzed over their heads, its whistle closer to Jane's ear than she would have liked. Crouching down even lower, Feron shouted, "If you don't leave now there's a good chance we'll both die. And you can't die, Shepard! You're too important! The galaxy needs you!"
She pressed her lips into a firm line. Sacrificing team members to ensure her own survival went against her very nature. She had managed to hold her ground and keep her small team of resistance fighters alive until reinforcements arrived during the Skyllian Blitz, she could just as well keep one drell alive now.
Snatching up a half-used heatsink that had rolled away from the salarian's body, she reloaded the pistol and turned to haul Feron up by his collar.
"Come on," she said. "We're getting out of here!"
Energy tickled at the base of her skull as she prepared to charge toward the door with Feron in tow. She made it halfway across the room before a mountain of a krogan deliberately stepped in her path. The force of the unexpected impact catapulted her backwards and sent the drell's unconscious body sliding across the floor.
You've got to get up, Shepard, she told herself. You need to save Feron. Ignore the pain. Fight to survive.
But before she even had the chance to roll over and push herself back to her feet, a large hand fastened around her neck and hoisted her into the air. Gasping for breath, she latched on to the krogan's arm and tried to pull his fingers from her throat. Behind him, two agents lifted Feron's body and carried it out of the cafeteria.
"Feron!" she cried, thrashing against the krogan's hold. Her struggling only made him grip harder.
In a last-ditch effort to keep from blacking out, Jane concentrated all of her biotic energy into a charge and directed it straight into the krogan's chest. The force of the blast tore his grip from her neck and drove them apart. Her captor skidded to a stop about a hundred feet away from her, his chest smoking from where the blast had penetrated his armor.
Panting, both from excruciating pain and the exhilaration that her crazy plan had actually worked, she scrambled to her feet and started after the drell.
"No, you don't!"
Desperation had made her careless, and so she didn't see the turian who had approached her from behind until it was too late. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he yanked her backward until she was flush against his chest.
"You're not going anywhere." He motioned to an agent in front of them. "Get the shackles!"
The asari nodded and ran out of the room, returning seconds later with a set of electrified handcuffs.
"No!" Shepard shouted, flailing against the turian in an attempt to break free. She jerked her head, wincing slightly as the motion ripped some of the hair from her scalp. Pivoting on her heel, she unleashed a shockwave that propelled the turian to the other side of the room.
That decision turned out to be her downfall. While Jane's back was turned, the asari agent immediately launched a counter-attack. Seconds later, her entire body was enveloped in a brilliant blue force field, her muscles paralyzed by the asari's stasis.
Realizing her grave error, Shepard's eyes widened as she helplessly watched the asari walk through the barrier and slap the handcuffs on her wrists. Another agent, probably a human judging from his size, stepped up beside the asari, and together they hoisted Jane up by her arms and carried her out to dock where their ship awaited them.
.x.x.x.
The gentle whoosh of the door sliding open woke Shepard up several hours later. Groaning, she blinked to clear the gunk from her eyes until the image before her came into focus.
The turian and human from earlier were back.
"Great," she muttered. "You two again. You're wasting your time. I'm still not telling you anything."
Unlike before, this time the human male had chosen to forgo his helmet. A self-satisfied, borderline sadistic smile was plastered across his face.
"You don't need to," he replied smugly.
He jerked his head and the turian stepped forward and started undoing the restraints that secured her wrists to the chair.
Shepard tensed. "What's that supposed to mean? What're you doing?"
The human shifted his weight from one hip to the other. "I told you that we had others of finding out what we want. Since you refuse to tell us, we're going to have to take more…drastic measures."
"Like what?"
"Well, I decided to take your advice, Shepard. You see, I did notice all of your stitches. And that got me thinking. There must be a reason you have all of them, and I'm willing to bet if we opened all those incisions back up, we might just find out what's underneath them."
"And if you don't find anything," she asked shakily.
He bobbed his head, making a show of pretending to consider her question. "That's a risk we're willing to take. And since you'll be conscious for all of it, I'm sure that if you are holding anything back, this may motivate you to tell us what we want to know."
The last shackle opened and clacked against the side of the chair. The noise echoed deep within her chest, ricocheting against a heart that had suddenly stopped beating. The Shadow Broker's agents certainly didn't mess around.
In that moment, everything became painfully clear. They were going to torture her. If they had to pluck out stitch by agonizing stitch, they would learn whatever secrets Cerberus had implanted inside her body. And from the look on the human agent's face, it no longer mattered if she died in the process.
This was it. She either died at their hands, or she died trying to escape from this hell-hole. The choice wasn't hard to make. Her death, when it came, would be on her terms.
She waited until the turian leaned over to grab her hands, and just as he was reaching for her she jerked to the side, yanking his sidearm out of its holster with her left hand. As soon as it was free, she raised her right hand and flung out a shockwave that threw both men against the wall.
Jumping to her feet, she swung the pistol around and mercilessly delivered two rounds to the each of their chests.
Jane slowly approached the human, pausing momentarily before firing one more shot directly at his head. Crouching down, she removed his armor and slipped into it. It was big, ill-fitting, and now had two bullet holes in it, but even compromised it still offered her more protection than her tattered hospital gown. Once she had changed, she holstered the turian's pistol on her side, secured the human's SMG on her back, and gathered up all their extra heatsinks.
She made to leave and then hesitated. At the last second, she knelt down and scooped up the human's omnitool. The chances of her making it out of there alive was slim. There was one last thing she had to do before she met her maker. Wasting a few precious seconds, she opened up the omnitool and typed out what would probably be her final message.
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