Chapter Twenty-two – Old Ghosts

Liara wasn't a fan of environmental suits. As she clamped the helmet shut, she could feel the closeness of the glass barely an inch from her face and she took a deep, steadying breath of the filtered air that was now being fed to her through the suit's systems.

It was ironic really, that a suit specifically designed to keep her breathing made her feel like she was being suffocated. As always, she pushed the discomfort to the back of her mind, focusing instead on how the visor limited her peripheral vison, and how much that irked her. She found that generally, it was better to be annoyed than anxious.

She remembered suiting up for missions on the Normandy. The initial feelings of apprehension could build up to unbearable levels, but they were always wiped away in an instant once the action started and instinct kicked in. Jules had once told her that the pre-mission nerves never go away, you just learn to embrace them.

With that in mind, she grabbed her gear and headed for the airlock. She found Maia and Egret waiting for her there, suited up and ready. Maia was diligently checking her sniper rifle while Egret paced back and forth in the small space. She seemed restless but not nervous, which was probably a good thing. In fact she looked more comfortable here than she had when they were seated at the consoles together.

"Did you make any progress on the encryption?" Liara asked as she stepped inside and closed the inner door. Egret blinked at her through her visor, probably wondering what answer Liara wanted.

"A little," she said, "should only take a few more hours work."

"Good," Liara smiled, unsure if Egret could actually see it through the helmet, "it's not a priority, we'll finish it when we get back," she turned to Maia, "ready?" the matriarch gave an affirmative nod and Liara opened the outer airlock.

The sight that greeted them was a grim one. The landing pad had clearly been out of use for decades, perhaps centuries; Liara switched on her torch and found the light reflected back to her off a heavy, swirling fog. Piares' thick atmosphere was leaking into the dome through the breaches they had seen from the ship and a mournful chorus of howls filled the room as the high winds whistled through the cracks.

"Watch your footing," Liara advised as she jumped down from the airlock with the other two close behind her. She had about ten feet of good visibility but beyond that, shapes were eerily distorted by the orange fog, remaining hidden before coming suddenly into focus.

There was very little chance of them finding anything alive here but she was still cautious as she led her team along a short corridor and into the main dome. Here, the wind roared high above them, making the whole dome shudder with every gust.

She shone the torch onto overturned chairs and tables along with a smashed drinks machine and there was cutlery scattered across the floor, "Looks like a cafeteria of some kind," Liara mused. Her foot touched something and she stopped, directing her torch downwards. For a split second she froze before crouching to get a better look.

"Goddess," she breathed softly. It was a skeleton, but it was more metal than bone. She could make out a spinal column, thickened up with wires and implants and hands that had been augmented with similar tech. A short distance away a skull lay on its side, baring its ugly metal teeth as it stared at her through dead, round disks that would once have glowed blue.

"What is it?" Egret had appeared beside her, peering curiously over her shoulder.

"I… think it's what's left of a husk," Liara replied, grimacing slightly. The sight brought back unpleasant memories.

"A human?" Egret queried, "Corrupted by the reapers?"

"Yes," Liara agreed. The reaper tech was completely inert and anything organic had rotted away long ago but it was still unmistakable.

"Oh my god," Egret muttered, showing her human side again, "I've read about them of course but I've never… they were horrible."

"Yes," Liara said again.

"And, if memory serves," they both looked up at Maia's voice and saw the matriarch gazing down at another body a few feet away, "this was one of the corrupted asari."

They moved over to join her and Liara heard Egret make a sharp intake of breath. The creature was as grotesque as Liara remembered, its every limb elongated, its hands and feet tipped with metal talons, the ugly, sinister smile carved onto its face, abominated by the tubes and circuits that snaked through its skull. She still had nightmares about them sometimes, waking with their shrieks echoing through her mind.

"The crew of the Normandy called them 'banshees'," she muttered, her mouth suddenly dry. Her suit suddenly felt even more tight and restrictive and she'd have killed for some fresh air.

"Banshees?" Maia repeated.

"Monsters from Earth mythology. Hideous female spirits with blood-curdling screams. They were considered an omen for death."

Maia cocked her head, "An appropriate analogy, I suppose."

"That used to be an asari?" Egret asked, she was staring at the creature in mild horror that even her visor didn't manage to mask.

"I hope not, Egret, "Maia replied, "I hope the asari died the moment she was corrupted."

Knowing the cruelty of the reapers, Liara doubted that were true but she said nothing. She could easily have driven herself mad during the war, wondering if every husk she killed contained a fully aware human, silently screaming to be let out.

"This dome must have been left completely untouched since the war," she said to change the subject.

"Perhaps not completely," Egret stepped over the banshee and headed for some computer consoles, or at least the empty shells that had once been consoles, "looks like a lot of the tech has been stripped out. They must have taken whatever was useful but have never actually reclaimed this section."

"Do a full scan," Liara instructed her, "see if you can find any way from here to the inhabited domes, it looked like they were all connected from orbit," as Egret and Maia went to it, Liara contacted Ereba.

"What have you found?" the pilot asked, Liara eyed the reaper corpses for a moment.

"Not much," she replied, "we're going to see if we can reach the other domes, any word from Shepard or the others?"

"Not yet. I'll contact you as soon as I hear anything."

…

Kyla and Barbet lingered in the docking port, trying not to look too conspicuous as they leaned against a railing that overlooked the city below.

They had slipped seamlessly out of the freighter while the guards were distracted but rather than bolting for the nearest exist, they had blended into the busy port and waited, keeping half an eye on the freighter where Shepard was still being held at gun point. Hopefully. The alternative was that the thugs had already shot her and their mission into asari space had got off to a really shit start.

Kyla tried not to think about how she would explain that one to Liara as she studied the streets below her.

At first sight the city looked like any other city, filled with ordinary people going about their ordinary lives. Some were dressed in smart, business-type clothes while others were in more casual – and even quite fashionable – dress.

It seemed to be lunch time and there were clusters of people eating takeout food while seated on benches or low walls surrounding obscure metal sculptures. They laughed and chatted while others rushed by around them. The shops were full and thriving and colourful adverts flashed up on screens high above the street.

Kyla was probably gawping as she stared at it all. She had a habit of gawping when something surprised her and all this was defiantly surprising her. She had expected asari space to be all rags, second-hand weapons and food rations, she hadn't expected a booming city.

When you looked closer though, it was obvious this place had been built from spare parts. Colourful as it was, there was nothing new or shiny here and there was a definite sense that it had been cobbled together. The buildings all stood at different heights, leaning haphazardly against each other and the metal that bolted them together was all of different colours and qualities.

There was something else off too. The people here may have all seemed normal and happy but when she looked closer she saw a lot of them were dressed in combat gear. Light combat gear, the kind biotics wore that was subtle enough to blend in. A lot of the people here were also armed, whether it be with pistols, combat knifes or even rifles.

Some of them were obviously guards patrolling the streets, their eyes sharp and suspicious; others looked like ordinary people who for some reason felt they needed a gun on them to get through their day. Either way, there were far too many weapons on show for this to be as happy a city as it looked. It reminded her eerily of Omega. Only Omega hadn't bothered to try and hide its nature.

"We seem to blend right in," Barbet muttered, as though reading her thoughts. He was eyeing the amount of weaponry with the same unease as she was and kept casting his eyes around the docking port where there were even more armed guards.

"Yeah," she agreed, "I've got to admit, I didn't think we'd find anything this advanced this side of the relay."

Barbet frowned at her, "It's been two hundred years since the war, they've had as much time to rebuild as we have."

"Maybe. But this is asari space. Two hundred years is nothing."

Barbet nudged her with his elbow and she glanced around to see movement over by the freighter. Past the inordinate number of guards stationed around the landing ramp, she could see Shepard being marched outside, surrounded on all sides.

No one in the port batted an eyelid, apparently prisoners being held at gunpoint was not an unusual sight around here. She was being led away from them, they waited until she and her escort disappeared around a corner and then began heading in the same direction.

The number of guards around her made keeping track of her easy even in the crowd and they were soon out of the docking port and into the throng of the streets. Even here the guards drew little notice and no one spared Shepard so much as a glance.

They didn't stay on the main streets for long, instead veering off down a long set of steps that would have been easy to miss without knowing they were there. Kyla and Barbet followed and found themselves in a network of narrower, murkier streets running below the main ones. The noise from the crowds above was muffled down here as closer sounds echoed eerily off the enclosed walls.

This was more like what Kyla had expected, dank and dingy. There were fewer people down here and she and Barbet kept as much distance from the guards as they could without losing them. Figures lurked in doorways or huddled together in alcoves and Kyla couldn't shake the feeling that at any minute they might cross an invisible boundary and end up somewhere they weren't welcome.

As they got deeper into the bowels of the city the streets became even narrower and more labyrinthine until they lost sight of the guards and had to follow the sound of their footsteps instead. Eventually, Barbet peered around a corner then abruptly grabbed Kyla and pushed her back behind him. The two of them waited for a second and then peered around in unison.

A large, metal gate cut across the street several feet ahead and was being defended by guards and turrets. The gates were currently open as Shepard and the others were ushered inside before they clanged shut and the guards returned to their positions.

Barbet and Kyla retreated back around the corner, "That look like a base entrance to you?" the batarian muttered quietly."

"Yup," Kyla agreed, "what now? I'm assuming we're not going to storm the place?"

He smirked, "Tempting, but no. Let's see if we can contact the ship."

…

The gates shut behind Jules with a definite clank, shutting off her chances of escape in a swift second. Not that she had been trying to escape, she needed answers first.

Still, she wasn't exactly thrilled by her gloomy new surroundings and she spared herself a glum sigh as she was pushed forward across what appeared to be a small courtyard towards a heavy pair of metal doors. It looked like a prison. An old, rundown prison but with bars on the windows and guards at every turn it was obvious that getting out again was going to be a challenge. She would worry about that later.

The doors opened and she found that inside, it looked less like a prison but much more like a criminal base. Her footsteps echoed off a metal grated floor and everything was lit with a dull, red light. People of all races lurked together in groups, smoking or chatting. They were all well-armed and well-dressed to go with it. In fact they didn't quite fit the stereotypical thug image that she'd conjured up for them.

Instead, they held themselves with a superior kind of dignity that people only displayed when they were used to being respected – or feared. Their clothes were exquisite, as were the jewels many of them were adorned with and as for their weapons... it was the first time Jules had ever seen diamond encrusted submachine guns but she had to admit, they put her gold-plated shotgun to shame.

Still, she wouldn't have said she was impressed. Instead the whole scene unnerved her.

She drew looks as she was led through the base, some of mild distaste, some of downright contempt and some whose eyes lit up hungrily, like they'd just spotted a prize they wished to own. They whispered and murmured to each other as they watched her and Jules was reminded of nineteenth-century aristocrats from old Earth films. They were a bizarre contrast to the dank metal base they resided in.

She was taken through another set of doors and suddenly found herself in a wide, open space. The ceiling was three times as high here and the walls melted away into a large, circular room. She was treading on dirt now and she looked down to see blood stains in a mix of colours in the sand.

It was an arena, she realised as she eyed the rows of empty benches that were overlooking it. There were people training here, stripped down to the bare minimum of clothing as sparred together in pairs. They were being watched over by guards who seemed to be throwing their own punches at anyone they thought wasn't trying hard enough.

Jules slowed as she tried to get a better look at what was going on here until a rifle butt hit her sharply in the back and she was reminded to keep moving. She was marched to the other end of the arena and out through another set of doors. They moved through the dingy corridors until they finally stopped at a door. Connor – who had been leading the group – hit the access panel and after a moment the door slid open.

The room beyond was the perfect example of what happened when someone had too much money and no taste. 'Garish' was the first word that occurred to her as she was pushed inside, then she quickly decided that would be an understatement.

Every corner glittered, from the heavy, golden chandelier to the thick, velvet drapes to the mismatch of statues, crammed together in no obvious order. Some were old, probably scavenged from Thessia after the war as they depicted naked asari or busts of prothean-like creatures similar to the ones Jules had seen in the temple of Athame.

An ancient stone tablet was propped up against one wall with old asari writing carved into it and Jules grimaced, knowing Liara would have a fit when she found out such a precious artefact had ended up in a place like this. A gold rimmed mirror stood in one corner, reflecting the room in all its ghastliness and several thick rugs that didn't complement each other covered the metal floor. If the whole purpose of this grandeur was to cover up the dank, gloominess of the room then it wasn't working. Everything simply looked vulgar and out-of-place.

Perhaps the worst part was the golden throne situated in the middle. At least, it had been made up to look like a throne – cushioned with red velvet and decorated with gemstones that could only have been found on Thessia.

The human man who was lounging in it was obviously the room's designer and from the looks of it, he fancied himself as some kind of medieval king. He was dressed in a deep, royal purple and every inch of him dripped with jewels, from the glittering rings adorning every finger to the numerous piercings at his ears to the golden toecaps of his boots – which also happened to be encrusted with diamonds. Gold and silver beads were braided into his long hair and Jules was amazed he wasn't wearing a crown too, just to finish off the look.

Whoever this guy was, his base had quickly shot to the top of her least-favourite-places-to-be-held-captive list. The Illusive Man may have been a sadistic bastard but at least he'd been a minimalist when it came to interior décor.

He studied her carefully as she was brought before him, his expression blank as he tilted his head to one side and peered at her through pale, watery eyes. She noticed the family resemblance between him and Connor immediately and suddenly realised why someone as young as Connor had been given command of a squad. Nepotism was common in criminal gangs, and however fancy these people were, they were still just a criminal gang.

"So," he spoke smoothly, running a hand across his chin. He may have been dressed like a king but he didn't have the manner of one, he looked lazy instead of regal and as though everything in the world bored him, "this is… Commander Shepard?" as he said her name, his face split into an amused grin and he cast a glance at Paige who was standing beside Jules with her arms folded. The asari bristled at his tone. Jules noticed that neither she, nor any of the squad from the freighter were as well-dressed as most of the people here. Perhaps this was the kind of gang where you had to work your way up.

"It is her, boss," she told him firmly, "I know it sounds mad-"

"Show me the scans," he cut her off, rising from his throne and wandering over to her, hand outstretched expectantly. She hesitated briefly and then activated her omni-tool. He grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled the interface into his view. Jules saw a flash of annoyance in Paige's eyes and she seemed to bite her tongue to stay quiet.

Eventually he released his grip on her and looked over at Connor, "You're right, she's quite a find."

Connor's smirk failed to hide how pleased he was by the compliment. The 'boss' eyed Jules for a second, "Leave her with me," he decided, "I'll see what she has to say for herself."

Paige and Connor exchanged a glance before they and the guards filed out of the room, leaving Jules alone with him. He didn't speak at once, instead eyeing her idly before sauntering back to his throne and throwing himself down with a flourish.

"What's your name?" he enquired, his voice was beautifully delicate, reminding Jules of Aria for a brief second. From his question, it was obvious he didn't believe Paige's theory. As bizarre as the truth was, Jules couldn't immediately think of anything more plausible that she could tell him, so she responded with a smile.

"What's yours?"

He blinked at her, as though wondering if she was serious. Perhaps he was well known around here. Eventually he seemed to decide to humour her.

"Cadeyrn," he replied, Jules showed no signs of recognition at the name, "I own this base, and the arena."

Jules cast a glance around the lavish room, "Yeah, I figured that."

He studied her a little more, drawing out the silence before he spoke again, "Paige has convinced herself that you are the legendary Commander Shepard. Is that true?"

"Do you believe it's true?"

He paused again, his eyes trailing the length of her body as though some clue might be revealed there, "I think others will believe it's true," he said at last, "which is more important. I can understand why she'd think you're something special though. Your implants are… impressive."

"Cadeyrn!" she said, feigning shock, "Are you flirting with me?"

Sadly, Cadeyrn didn't seem the type to appreciate a good joke and his face remained impassive as he leaned forward, steepling his fingers beneath his chin, "How did you end up with so many implants?"

"Long story," Jules replied, "and a very personal one."

"Paige claims that one of them is a biotic implant."

"Mm," Jules muttered, "your son seemed surprised by that too."

"My what?"

Jules raised an eyebrow, "Connor?"

For a moment he frowned as though he didn't even recognise the name, then it seemed to come back to him, "Oh. He's my nephew, actually but you're very observant, Shepard. Why do you need a biotic implant?"

Jules frowned, wondering if it was a trick question, "Well… I'd struggle to use my biotics without it."

"Would you?" he seemed genuinely intrigued by that as he leaned back again and scrutinised her curiously, "Connor's right then, you're not from this part of space. How did you get here? Did you come on one of the shipments from the Terminus? Yes you must have done," he decided before she could answer him, "nothing comes through the relay."

Jules stayed quiet. She could only begin to imagine what the hell was being shipped in from the Terminus, as far as she had known nobody had any contact with asari space in the rest of the galaxy. If Aria knew something about this… she decided not to jump to conclusions as Cadeyrn continued to muse to himself.

"But what where you doing on my freighter?" he asked, almost more to himself than to her, "Did you stowaway from Thessia? There's no shame in it if you did, plenty of people want to get off that planet."

"Do they?" Jules muttered, "First you think I'm from the Terminus and then from Thessia. Make your mind up."

He glowered slightly, "If the Thessian Order have sent you as some kind of trap, I promise it won't work."

"Connor mentioned the Thessian Order," Jules said, "who are they?" perhaps she was giving too much away by asking, but she was curious.

Cadeyrn's reaction was telling, he seemed to be trying to decide whether she was joking or not, "They are… everywhere and nowhere."

Jules rolled her eyes, "Helpful. I hear you've been stealing eezo off them?"

"Stealing?" he frowned now, his eyes sharpening accusingly, "Would you judge a starving man for taking food from a fat one, who hordes a larder bigger than he could ever need?"

"Dunno," Jules shrugged, "depends whether he's the leader of a criminal gang."

"Criminal? The word criminal, suggests the presence of laws."

"And there aren't any in this city?"

"There are… rules," he allowed, "most of them are written by me."

"Ah," Jules felt her face fall slightly as she realised she may have underestimated how far up the food chain Cadeyrn was. Up until that point she'd had him pegged as a petty crime lord, one with expensive tastes and a serious superiority complex but nothing more than that. But if he was in charge of the city… she squinted at him, trying to work out how serious he was being. He may just have been lying to intimidate her after all.

"Is that why you need the eezo? To run the city?"

He frowned at her, "You ask strange questions."

She shrugged, "We've already established that I'm not from round here. I'm just trying to get my bearings."

"Hm," he thought about that for a moment, "I'll tell you what, Shepard, I'll make a deal with you. I'll answer any questions you have, if you do something for me."

Jules sighed, "Here we go. What is it? You want me to rescue someone? Reclaim a lost heirloom? Single-handedly win a war? Find a missing cat?"

He smirked softly, "Can you fight?"

Jules snorted.

…

As Liara and the others moved through the abandoned dome, they found more reaper remains. The large skeleton of a brute lay where it had fallen, flanked by the crushed and scattered remains of half-a-dozen more husks and a few marauders.

Their metal eyes were dead as they stared soullessly at their cold surroundings and Liara found herself feeling sad; not for the monstrous creatures that had died, but for the people they had been before the reapers corrupted them.

It seemed like this dome had been held in time, a capsule preserving all the horrors of the war, untouched for centuries. It was stirring up memories that Liara didn't often revisit.

Egret's initial horror had slowly turned to fascination and when they encountered the vast corpse of a harvester, blocking a corridor beneath the breach it must have smashed through, Egret moved over to it with interest.

"They were remarkable, weren't they?" she mused as she shone her torch along the length of its metal spine, "Horrible of course," she added quickly, "but remarkable."

Some people might have thought her reaction cold or tactless, but Liara was a scientist and knew what it was like to put emotion aside in favour of curiosity. She had also been fascinated by the reapers once, until she'd witness the pointless destruction they brought.

She let Egret examine the harvester's remains as she brought up her omni-tool and scanned ahead. There seemed to be a network of tunnels somewhere beneath them, possibly what was left of the original mining operations here. They had checked every exit from the dome and found them firmly sealed, most of the corridors that connected to the other domes had been blocked up or destroyed anyway but it looked like the mining tunnels ran right to the other domes; if they could just find a way down to them.

"Doctor T'Soni," Maia's voice reached her through her helmet's intercom and she looked up, shining her torch through the orange fog. She could just make out the matriarch's silhouette over by the wall, she saw a blue haze of biotics light up around her, accompanied by the screech of metal. As she walked over, she saw Maia had forced open and ancient pair of doors and was now leaning through them, peering downwards.

"Looks like an old elevator shaft," she said as Liara came alongside her, she also leaned through, shining her torch into the blackness below. The narrow beam penetrated the dark even less than it did the fog, giving no indication of what was down there.

"I wonder how far down it goes," Maia muttered.

"One way to find out," Liara gave Maia no time to react as she stepped to edge and jumped.

The stale air rushed past her as she fell, enclosing her in darkness. She went past the distance that she could easily survive and carried on falling. Some hidden asari instinct told her that the ground was approaching and her biotics reacted, cushioning her in a protective field that slowed her decent until she finally stopped, hovering an inch off the ground. She let her biotics dissipate and dropped neatly to the floor.

"About fifty feet," she said into her helmet, "come on down."

She stepped out of the way and was soon joined by Maia and then Egret, both using their biotics to cushion them in the same way. Maia's face was lit up inside her helmet and she was looking at Liara with an expression that was hard to read.

"I had heard many things about you, Liara T'Soni," she stated calmly, "your recklessness was not one of them."

For a moment Liara paused as the childhood feeling of being told off by a disapproving matriarch flooded back to her. But as she looked over at Maia, she realised there was a brightness in her eyes and a levity in her tone that suggested she was smiling beneath her helmet.

"When you've walked down the active main battery of a geth dreadnaught or charged through a battlefield towards a reaper with the mother of all thresher maws behind you, you soon gain a new perspective on what is reckless and what is not," she replied calmly.

"I'm sure," Maia agreed, a trace of amusement in her voice, "you should tell us some of your war stories sometime, the younger ones have been dying to hear them."

Liara blinked at her, very aware of Egret's expectant eyes on her. She cleared her throat and flashed her torch around. It was pitch black down here but she could feel the tunnel that was enclosing them even if she couldn't see it. The dark was drinking in the light from her torch and she frowned and brought up her omni-tool.

"We're in the mining tunnels," she muttered, "I should be able to chart a path through them to the other domes."

"Doctor T'Soni," Ereba's voice came over the comm.

"Go ahead," Liara told her.

"I've just heard in from Kyla and Barbet. We may have a problem…"

…

"What do you mean you let her get captured?" Kyla winced as Liara's voice yelled at her through her omni-tool.

"Alright babe, keep your knickers on!" she retorted, "We were only following her orders! And would you please keep your voice down?" she and Barbet were currently standing in a narrow alleyway a few blocks away from where Shepard had been taken and she keeping a very close eye on a shady group of salarians who were lurking at the far end of it. She had a feeling it would be better not to draw attention to themselves around here.

Barbet cleared his throat, giving Kyla a meaningful look as he spoke, "We followed the guards who took her, we know where she's being held. Looks pretty well defended."

There was a pause and what sounded like a heavy sigh, "Alright. Don't try anything until we arrive."

"Where the hell are you anyway?" Kyla asked, "Ereba said you'd had to land in an abandoned section?"

"Yes. We're trying to reach you now, just sit tight until we get there."

The comm shut off and Kyla huffed, "Hmph, not even a thank you."

Barbet gave her one of his looks.

…

"An arena is a very lucrative business," Cadeyrn had risen from his throne to pour himself a drink at a nearby table. He had relaxed into the conversation now, speaking to Jules more like a casual friend than a prisoner. He even turned his back on her as he wandered casually back to his throne and sat. Either he deliberately wanted to show her how unthreatened he felt by her, or he was an idiot. She knew which option she was favouring at the moment.

"I can imagine," she muttered dryly.

"A man like me often has to deal with… difficult people," he continued, "some of them are genuine threats, others are simply fools trying to avoid paying their taxes."

"By 'taxes' I'm assuming you mean protection money," Jules said. He looked up at her sharply, his beaded braids clinking together.

"You have a very low opinion of me considering we've only just met."

"I get the feeling you're not about to improve it," she retorted, "what do you do with these people?"

He shrugged, "Imprisoning them is expensive and ultimately pointless. Executing them always seems like a waste. However, put them in the arena and people will pay to watch them fight. Those with enough skill to survive become extremely profitable and those that don't are no great loss."

"So those fighters I saw training in the arena? They're all here against their will?"

He smiled and nodded, "But I'm not unreasonable. They can fight for their freedom, if the so wish."

"And how do they do that?" Jules muttered through gritted teeth, it was taking a lot of effort to stay calm in the face of this moron's indifference to the lives he threw away. Whatever patience she had once had for people like him had run out decades ago.

"They can challenge my champion," he replied.

"And is your champion a prisoner too?"

"Oh no, the champion fights willingly. If someone challenges the champion and wins, they go free."

"And if they lose they die?" Jules assumed.

"Not necessarily. If they put up a good enough fight I might keep them alive, no point in wasting talent. The better the fighter, the more people will pay to see them compete. Unfortunately, not many people are much of a match for my champion and the fights are often a disappointment."

Jules chewed on the inside her mouth, she could see where this was going.

"You're not Commander Shepard," he told her, "that much is obvious. But that name inspires awe and reverence."

Jules frowned sceptically, "Does it?"

"People will want to believe you are her even if they have to ignore the fact that she would be over two centuries old. Your implants are remarkable, perhaps they're common on the other side of the galaxy, I don't know. But here, they'll be enough to peak people's interest."

Jules breathed a long sigh, "So, you want me to fight your champion?"

He smiled, "It's been so long since anyone put up a decent fight that people have stopped coming to the champion's matches."

"You haven't even seen me fight. What makes you think I'll be any better?"

"The name 'Shepard' will be enough to draw people in and remind them that the champion is worth watching even if you do turn out to be useless. But something tells me those implants of yours make you quite formidable."

"Oh, I was formidable long before the implants, believe me," Jules folded her arms, she found it surprisingly annoying that Cadeyrn didn't believe who she was, "you want me to fight this champion of yours? Fine. I'll happily kill some bloodthirsty thug who gets a kick out of slaughtering weaker opponents but afterwards, I want to know everything about this city, Thessia and what the hell is going on in this part of space."

Cadeyrn considered her for a moment, then nodded, "If you win, I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"It's a deal," Jules muttered, she had a feeling she was always going to have been chucked in that arena whether she'd agreed to it or not. At least she'd be fighting this 'champion' and not one of the other prisoners.

"Good," Cadeyrn smiled, "I'll see that the arena is full within the hour."

"Within the hour?" Jules repeated.

"Of course. People pay more at short notice, why waste time waiting? You want your answers, don't you?"

…

It was amazing how quickly an hour could pass. Jules was taken to a small holding room just off from the arena; she wasn't alone, Paige and Connor stood guard while she paced restlessly from wall to wall. The noise from the arena steadily began to grow and Jules wondered how the hell Cadeyrn managed to pull a crowd together so quickly. Word must travel fast in this city.

"Do I get my guns back?" she asked at one point. Connor threw her a disdainful glance.

"You won't need them. The arena is hand-to-hand and biotic combat only."

"Is the champion a biotic?"

Connor gave her that look again, the look you only gave people when they asked a stupid question, "Everyone in the arena's a biotic."

Jules frowned thoughtfully, "Is everyone in asari space a biotic?"

His look was even more incredulous this time and he seemed to decide that question wasn't worthy of an answer. She tried asking something else.

"What can you tell me about this champion? I'd like to know what I'm up against."

He sighed, "Let's put it this way, it's been a long time since anyone won their freedom."

"I hope you're as good as everyone always said you were," Paige added. Connor stared at her, "What?" she asked.

"You can't seriously think…" he trailed off and shook his head, "never mind."

"You weren't alive during the war, Connor," she told him sharply, "if you had been you'd know I'm right about her. The boss shouldn't be doing this."

"Shut up."

"It's idiotic."

"Shut up!" he snapped, "For you own sake, learn to keep your fucking mouth shut! Unless you want to get thrown in that arena too!" it didn't sound like a threat, it sounded more like Connor was genuinely worried about her. It didn't seem like Cadeyrn inspired unquestioning loyalty from his followers. He was probably relying on money and fear to keep people onside.

The door opened and a turian guard stepped inside. He wasn't one of the finely dressed ones, he looked to be nothing more than a grunt. Connor glanced back at Jules, "Looks like it's time to go."

Jules eyed him for a moment and contemplated saying something, but in the end she stayed quiet as she stepped between them towards the door. Paige caught her briefly by the arm as she passed.

"Good luck," she said, followed by a small shrug as though she wished she could offer more. Jules gave her a nod and left.

The turian led her the short way down the corridor and opened the doors to the arena, bringing the previously muffled chants and cheers into sharp focus. He didn't go through them, instead stepping aside and looking at her meaningfully. Jules steeled herself as best she could and walked forwards.

The noise was deafening. The arena was really quite small, it couldn't have held many more than a thousand people but their raucous cheers thundered intensely in the enclosed space, making the floor vibrate beneath her.

She stepped tentatively out into bright lights and gazed distastefully upon her audience. There were people of every race here but it was obvious you had to be rich to get in. Some glittered with jewels, others didn't but carried a personal armoury on them that showed off their wealth. As she scanned the bizarre and mismatched crowd she couldn't help but wonder if the arena was this city's equivalent of the opera.

Whatever walks of life they came from, they were all out for blood, jeering and shouting as she emerged. She stopped close to the centre of the ring and slipped her hands into her back pockets, being sure not to look intimidated or even impressed.

If this so-called 'champion' got some kind of a kick out of killing for other people's entertainment then she would be glad to end them. But she'd try to do it cleanly, there was no way she was going to play up to what this lot wanted.

"The legendary Commander Shepard!" Cadeyrn's voice boomed over the crowd, amplified enough that she felt it through her chest. She turned to see him seated at the head of the arena, surrounded by guards. He was lounging lazily in his chair, smiling at her all too pleasantly, "Are you ready to face the champion?"

She got a feeling the question was rhetorical and responded only by folding her arms. He seemed to give her a little disapproving sigh before he continued.

"Open the doors!" he shouted, "Release the champion!"

'Release' the champion? Jules mused, was the champion some kind of animal? Or was he just being melodramatic?

The doors opposite her opened and she saw a tall, slender figure silhouetted against the light. It was walking on two legs and certainly didn't look like a beast, as it glided elegantly forwards she realised it was an asari. That was fine. She'd fought plenty of asari.

She might have expected a bloodthirsty fighter to be a krogan or a batarian, but she knew that asari could be just as cruel and twice as dangerous. She got into a fighting stance and channelled her biotics, erecting a barrier around herself in preparation.

The crowd had become almost frenzied at the sight of the champion and the noise had increased even more. What sickened her most was the amount of laughter – childish laughter, like watching two people kill each other was nothing but a bit of fun.

"Let the fight begin!" Cadeyrn shouted over it all.

Jules readied herself, the asari stepped into the light and suddenly Jules faltered, her barrier diminished and she felt her guard completely drop as she stared in disbelief at the woman in front of her.

"Samara?"

Just a quick thank you to everyone who's still following this story, writing it keeps me sane so I'm glad other people are enjoying it too :-)