Author's note: From this point forward, you are warned not to read if you are easily offended, or if you are uncomfortable with questionable or morally implicit themes.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

A thin beam of sunlight leaked through the shutters in Jason's bedroom, stirring Daro from her sleep. The quarian silently cursed her regimented lifestyle. For once, she wished she could sleep in on the one day she had off. Years of a self-imposed schedule dictated how much sleep she was able to get a night. The sheets fell off of her suited body as she stretched, a soft yawn escaping her voice modulator. Arching her back, the vertebrae popped back into place with a soft snap. The bed to her side was vacant. Jason must already have awoken. Not that he had been sleeping very well lately. Daro sighed as she lounged on the weathered mattress, letting her body catch up with her mind. He had been trying to give up the drugs for nearly two weeks now, but the effects were starting to show. Nosebleeds, headaches, hallucinations, nightmares, fevers. Daro shuddered as she thought of one night when she had come home and found him curled up in the corner of the living room with blood pouring out of his nose and trembling from fever. It was only getting worse.

Climbing out of bed, Daro got to her feet, feeling the hollow pop of her ankles resettling as she walked downstairs to find Jason. Hopefully, he had managed to not hurt himself while she slept. He had on more than one occasion spent the night biting at his own flesh in an attempt to muffle his screaming, to bare against the pain. Making her way down to the haphazardly maintained steps, Daro saw him sitting on the couch, the orange glow of his omni-tool visible over his hunched and quivering shoulders. He jumped as her voice picked up.

"What's that?"

Jason turned to her, his weathered face dripping with sweat.

"Nothing. Just a message. Are there anymore painkillers?"

Daro walked over behind the couch, leaning over and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Jason, you know they won't help you. The pain will stop, eventually," she whispered reassuringly, the babbling scientist in her taking over. "You've been exposed to the sand for too long. Long-term exposures like yours develops pseudo-biotic nodules directly on your nerves. They feed on the drug, growing and spreading. Without the chemical compounds, they will decay and eventually die. You just need to... tough it out. I'm sor-"

"I don't care about your babbling, Daro! I need more painkillers!" Jason snapped. His voice was as shaky as the muscles that were contorting and twisting involuntarily against a seemingly endless wave of pain.

Daro sighed through her voice modulator, pulling open the door to meet the howling sandstorms of Caleston. She couldn't help but feel a sense of uselessness in the whole situation. She knew it was raw agony grating against his nerves that caused Jason to act so angry, and she didn't blame him for it. The fact that she couldn't help him, however, was driving her mad.

"I'll be back... Be careful, alright?" Daro's voice was quiet, trying to soothe the monstrous agony wracking her friend's body in any way possible.

Jason didn't respond, shivering and sweating on the couch as Daro sealed the door and started the long walk to the nearest pharmacy. No matter how many times she tried to explain his condition, all he ever wanted was more painkillers. It was almost like they were replacing the sand as his drug of choice. Daro pulled her shawl tighter around her body as a powerful gust sent sand scraping against the surface of her visor. He was barely at the halfway point in his recovery. Red sand had a long, brutal recovery process. Biotics relied on nodules in their nervous system to tap into their element zero reserves. Red sand developed microscopic nodules on a non-biotic's nerves, and as the user continued taking the drug, the nodules eventually grew to the size of an actual biotic's. Once a victim tried to quit the drug at that point, it was an extremely long, slow process, as the nodules decayed, taking part of the nerves they had grown from with them. Painkillers did nothing. It was the worst possible pain imaginable, with the victim experiencing nerve endings dying over the course of several weeks. Daro often wondered if she had asked for too much of Jason. Every day, it ate at her a little more, watching him screaming and whimpering like a crazed animal.

Daro shook her head in defiance. No, she couldn't think like that. He would get better and she would help him. Cool air rushed to meet her as she entered the pharmacy, searching the various racks for the most powerful analgesic she could find. The salarian at the counter paid her mercifully little mind as she handed him a credit chit. Daro had been digging into her savings to pay for Jason's painkillers. At this point, she didn't know when she would be able to leave Caleston. Part of her felt selfish for it. She was shirking her duty to her people to help this man. Part of her wasn't sure if she was ever actually going to return to the fleet at all. The bonds between the quarian people were strong, and Daro still felt them for her people, but it was hard to feel too broken up about leaving behind a life as an outcast, where nobody paid her much mind. She would eventually send something back to her people and earn her adult name, but she didn't intend to stay. Daro knew it wasn't likely to be a problem anyway, nobody would care much if she stayed or left. Shen, maybe, but he had his own life to lead now. Daro knew staying with Jason was both stupid and selfish, everything she had been raised and trained not to be, but what did she care? The lonely young woman had finally met someone who was willing to do anything for her. He was willing to endure so much for her, and that was something the fleet couldn't have. She was keeping her human for herself, the one thing she hadn't that wasn't anybody else's. She loved him.

The pure, crystalline logic of it was chilling. Daro knew herself too well to hide it away. Yet, strangely, she didn't feel ashamed. Part of her thought she should, to be so young and foolish, willing to throw her life away to help this man. Yet a much stronger part of her felt justified in her newfound romance. What had the Flotilla ever done for her? At least with him, she was welcome. She had a home, as meager as it was. Maybe when he was clean they could leave together, travel the stars until they found a new home for themselves. Some place beautiful. Maybe they could even save up and get their own ship, and just wander the stars together, two nomad lovers whose only home was with each other. Daro had never been a romantic, but something about the idea still managed to put a warm smile on her face. They were both better than this foul rock of a planet. Maybe they could even be together, some day. Daro had never put much purchase into the idea of sharing herself with someone, but she would be lying if she said the idea had not occurred to her. Now was not the time for that, though. Jason still had a long recovery ahead of him, and she still had a lot to do before they could get to that stage.

Daro had hardly realized she was walking by the time she had reached home, her mind absorbed in fantasy and wishful thinking. Sliding the door to the side and sealing it tightly, Jason weakly stood up from the couch. Daro rushed over to stop him from falling, his limbs hardly strong enough to carry his own weight, shaking visibly from the strain.

"Hey, enough of that. Stay here. I'll get you something to eat," she cooed quietly, taking care to be as tender as possible with him.

Jason's voice was weak as he grabbed her wrist.

"The pain... Please..." His eyes were moist. He had likely been sobbing again. Daro felt her heart twist into a knot at the thought. Her other hand went to his, her three fingers caressing his hand gently, trying her best to show that she was here for him.

"You need to eat something first, alright? Just... give me a few minutes."

Daro made her way over to the ramshackle kitchen, turning on the burners as she pulled a random can from the tacked-on shelves. She wasn't exactly familiar with levo-protein foods, but she learned quickly, a skill that had helped her numerous times throughout her life. It wasn't the first time she had to cook for Jason. His condition rarely allowed for him to do very much on his own. Daro let herself get lost in the memory of the first time she had attempted to cook for Jason. Apparently, humans couldn't digest sodium hypochlorite.

Daro carried the hot bowl of soup over to Jason, snuggling up to him on the couch. Taking the spoon in her hand, she gently began feeding it to him, the occasional small amount dribbling from his mouth as she tilted his head back to help him swallow. Making sure he was going to be able to keep his meal down this time, Daro set the bowl on the floor and took his hand as she gingerly helped him to his feet and up the stairs to his bed. He groaned as he was delicately laid out on the rough mattress, Daro taking the painkillers out and quickly moving her hand away before he tried to snatch them.

"No. Not after last time," she quietly admonished.

Jason sighed as he shifted uncomfortably in the bed. He had tried downing nearly the entire bottle one night. Daro wouldn't let him take it himself after that. Handing three of the pills to Jason, he swallowed them eagerly as Daro returned downstairs to hide the painkillers from Jason. She knew he would end up killing himself if it meant stopping the pain. Decaying flesh tied directly into your nervous system. She didn't want to think about it. She quietly cursed whoever discovered red sand under her breath as she slid the pain killers behind a loose brick underneath the floorboards.

Daro made her way upstairs into the bedroom they had shared together the past few weeks, finding him tossing and turning as he writhed between the sweat-soaked sheet. Soft, agonizing whimpers and painful moans drifted from his lips as Daro slowly climbed onto the mattress alongside him, her thin arms wrapping around him as she held her petite form to his. More than anything else in the world, she wished she could help him, that she could do more. She didn't care if she was selfish or irresponsible by choosing to stay. For once in her life, she belonged. It was a feeling she had thought lost after that lonely ceremony committing her parent's bodies to the silent void of space. She belonged alongside Jason. No matter what stood in her way, she would endure whatever squalls with him may come. Overcoming his addiction would be the trial that proved their devotion to each other. She wasn't going anywhere. Not when he needed her most.

Daro felt Jason shift around under the sheet, bringing his weathered face to her visor. Gone was that characteristic smirk she had thought of whenever she had faced the remarks of the throng of hateful miners she shared her workplace with, when she took the long walk through sand-blasted streets to the home they shared. In its place was a mournful expression she had never seen cross his face. Jason's words came out as a hoarse whisper.

"Dee... I'm sorry. For anything I've said or done or didn't do... I'm sorry. You're-"

Daro's finger swiftly came to his lips, silencing the human as she traced along the contours of the soft flesh there.

"Shh," she whispered delicately. "You don't need to apologize to me, Jason. I'm going to help you. I want to. I don't care what anyone says or thinks, I'm not going anywhere." Daro's mind drifted once more to thoughts of the Khalos. "A friend of mine said something to me a long time ago when I asked him why he defended me when no one else would. He said that to be truly good is to do good by others even when it is inconvenient to you. That's what it means to be a quarian. To do good by others."

"No... No, you don't understand. It's... You can't stay with me. You shouldn't. I'm... You're better than me. You deserve better." Jason's teeth were chattering, moisture running down his cheeks.

Daro's hand gliding along his cheek, her thumb idly drifting along his skin. She knew he wasn't in his right mind. Given his situation, she understood that taking anything he said seriously was folly. It wouldn't hurt to be reassuring though, surely.

"This isn't the life I imagined I would have when I left the Khalos to begin my Pilgrimage. But I wouldn't ask for anything else. You are... worth my distraction." Daro gave a small, warm smile under her visor. "Now, go back to sleep. I don't want to hear any more of this foolishness tomorrow, alright? We'll get through this, Jason. I promise."

Jason opened his mouth as though he meant to continue speaking before he turned away from her to lay on his side, attempting to force his dulled senses to sleep. Daro's arms slid along his body before she pulled herself up against him. Her eyes closed as she let herself be carried back into her dreams, imagining the new life she was sharing a bed with, knowing that in the end, it would all have been worth it, and they'd look back on this as nothing more than a bad dream.

Daro stirred from her sleep for the second time that day, her silver eyes looking out past the open shutters and seeing a star-filled sky. She had apparently slept the day away, something she was becoming more and more used to on her days off with Jason, as sleeping was the only time he ever had any respite from the suffering in his nerves. Feeling around Daro was immediately aware that Jason was not by her side, finding a small slip of paper on the pillow by her helmeted head. The scrawl was barely legible. It's took several scans from Daro's visor to properly decipher and translate the text.

"Meet me out by the dunes. We need to talk."

Daro tore the sheets off of her in a rush as she bolted down the stairs and out the door, pulling it to the side and running out into the cool night air. Daro's mind was racing. Sometimes, he really was a idiot. Why would he leave the house without her? In his condition, it was beyond reckless. At least he had the presence of mind in his chemical-addled brain to tell her where he'd gone. They had gone to that same place where they had made their pact many times before, but only when the skies were clear. They would sit and lay together for hours watching the stars, talking about anything and everything, about the life they were going to build for themselves one day. It was as serene and peaceful a place as any on this volcanic rock, and it always seemed to bring Jason some small level of comfort.

Daro trudged through the volcanic ash and sand of Syneu's outskirts, her mind ablaze as she pondered what he wanted to speak to her all the way out here about. No doubt it had something to do with their conversation earlier that day. She didn't understand it. She wouldn't have stayed as long as she has if she didn't care about him. What was there to discuss? Humans were so confusing at times. At least she knew that after this, they both could return home and put whatever doubts he was having behind them.

Daro walked past a rocky outcropping that served as a landmark for their meeting place, finding Jason staring at the stars with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, beads of sweat clear on his forehead in the starlight. He turned as Daro approached, his expression unreadable as his hands left his pockets.

"What are you doing out here? You shouldn't be out on your own. Come with me. We can talk when we get home." Daro reached for his hand before he pulled it away, tears welling up in his eyes. Daro stepped closer, her voice taking a tender tone.

"Jason... What's wrong? Tell me." Something didn't feel right. What was wrong with him?

Tears slid down his weathered cheeks as Jason shook his head, his voice coming out as a choking sob.

"I'm sorry."

Rough hands gripped Daro's shoulders, her visor immediately turning to meet the sneering human behind her. On pure instinct, a balled fist came downwards, directly into the human's pelvis before Daro brought her arm back up, breaking the human's nose in a spurt of blood with her elbow. Another human and a turian appeared from whatever hiding place they had found in the dunes and approached her, the turian taking a wild swing at her before she threw a quick jab at his throat, moving fluidly around him. The human came from her right, throwing another haphazard punch that the quarian easily dodged before she took hold of his wrist and snapped his elbow with a powerful blow. Daro didn't expend any energy, instead turning theirs against them in the instinctual methods drilled into her brain through years of combat training.

Her two would-be assailants were left with their wounds in the dust as six more shadowed figures stepped out from hiding. Daro went for her knife only to discover that she had left it behind. A panicked realization struck her. She reached for her assault rifle, only to find it was also absent. A chill made it's way down Daro's spine. She didn't have her weapons. How could she have made such a careless mistake? The assailants moved closer as they circled her, Daro shouting for Jason over them.

"Jason! Help me!"

Jason backed away, tears flowing freely as he stood by. Powerful arms wrapped around her midsection, attempting to restrain her before Daro aimed another elbow right above the man's eye. Spinning in a graceful flourish of pure, economic technique, Daro gripped his head as she brought a curved knee up into his face while forcing his skull downwards, the trauma of the impact letting out a sickening crack. Daro turned to Jason, desperation evident in her tone.

"Jason! Please! Help me!" Daro couldn't figure out why he was just standing there.

Jason averted his eyes, his eyelids shut tight as more tears squeezed forth. Talons came from beneath her arms, digging into her shoulders as the turian restrained her. Daro smashed the back of her helmet against the turian's plated face, releasing her as his hands went to his bleeding nose. One hand deftly grips at the turian's mandible, the other moving with a swift and precise strike severing the mandible in a fountain of blood, the turian's weakest point used against him. He crashed into the ground with an ear-splitting scream.

A shadow moved in Daro's peripheral sight, the quarian failing to move fast enough to dodge a heavy impact against her visor. The durable glass cracked as the force of the impact made contact with her face, a hot gush of blood spilling onto the opaque surface as her nose broke. Daro was caught off-balance as a powerful blow aimed for her stomach forced the wind out of her lungs, collapsing into the sand.

A flurry of punches and kicks greeted her, her assailants ganging up on her as they beat her mercilessly. They laughed and cheered, enjoying every violent second of her abuse. Daro screamed, crying for Jason to help her. For anyone to help her. A sickening chuckle was heard as one of the thugs pulled Daro to her feet, twisting her arms behind her back. An overweight human applauded at the sight before him, his dry and cracked skin twisted in a smug smirk. Daro's heart stopped, an icy chill running through her body at the sight of him. She knew him.

The foreman produced a large, taped up bag, a red substance visible under the clear plastic, tossing it to Jason as he chuckled.

"You did good, kid. The bitch is a fighter. Nice to know we're back in business."

Daro's eyes widened as it all suddenly came into focus. The message from earlier. The trip to the pharmacy. It was all to get her out of the house. To set this ambush up. The taste of her own blood filled her mouth as her voice came out in a weak rasp.

"Jason... Please... Don't d-"

One of the thugs punched her square in the gut, silencing her as the foreman let loose another gleeful chuckle. The obese human stretched out his pudgy fingers to her visor, pulling her closer to his cracked and mottled face. Had she been able to spit out the blood in her mouth, Daro would have aimed for his eyes. She swallowed hard.

"You're going to wish you had begged on your knees. Stupid alien."

Daro's eyes narrowed in an icy glare over the smear of blood on her visor, bringing her foot right between the foreman's legs in a powerful kick. The obese foreman collapsed to his knees as another thug delivered a blow to her gut. The foreman slowly got to his feet, pushing away the helping hand of one of his gang. He gestured behind her before a malicious smile crept across his lips.

"I only wish I could be there to see all the things they'll do to you."

Daro felt something sharp puncture her suit and sink into her skin. A needle. It took mere moments before the drug took effect, the edges of her vision turning blurry. Daro watched through a haze as Jason tore open the bag, taking whole handfuls of red sand and inhaling it, choking on the substance as he sucked up as much as he could. Daro's voice was weak as darkness enveloped her.

"Jason… why?" Everything was getting dark. Jason slouched and fell to his knees, inhaling so much of the drug that he had nearly forgotten he needed to breath air. Daro's eyelids got heavier, the drug overcoming her waning willpower.

"I... love..."

Everything went dark. Daro had no perception of time or space. There was only an infinite and impenetrable darkness that seemed to last forever.

Slowly, Daro became aware of a pulsing pain in her body. Pain was good. It was useful. It let her know she was still alive. Daro's silver eyes slowly blinked open, meeting a red smear of dried blood against her pale visor, a network of cracks running across the surface. Harsh orange light spilled into the dark cell she had found herself in, chains hanging from the metal walls and ceiling. Strength returning to her limbs, Daro attempted to stand, a sudden tug forcing her into a sitting position. Her hand went to her neck to find a collar and short length of chain fastening her to the wall. Daro's eyes widened as she observed her suited form. Her armor. Her cloth. Everything was gone. They had left the bare minimum of her suit for her. Tears weld up in her eyes. Her parents... Everything she had of them, gone. Her father's rifle and knife, her mother's shawl and ornamental armor, upgraded and passed down through the generations since before the flight from the home world. Daro slammed a fist into the wall in rage.

Quickly recovering, the frightened quarian brushed the anger from her mind, her training taking over, trying to make sense of her surroundings. She was aboard a ship, feeling the artificial gravity and hearing the low hum of the engines. Judging by her surroundings, it was likely a Batarian Indentured Service Trading vessel, she had seen ones of similar make in the flotilla. The quarians occasionally had to fight the batarians off, taking any captured vessels for their own in an ironic twist of fate. Daro knew this particular ship wasn't crewed by any quarian. The foreman had her sold.

Jason had her sold.

Daro did not believe there was a word for what she felt. The man she loved, the man she was willing to share her life with, the man she was willing to forsake her people to be with, sold her for his own addiction. Daro felt utterly dumbstruck. Where had she gone wrong?

Her shoulders sank, her arms falling to her sides as she collapsed against the cold metal wall, tears pouring forth freely from her silver eyes. Being degraded and groped at work she could handle. Being left to rot on a desert hell hole she could tolerate. She even managed it despite backbreaking work that left her barely enough time to eat and sleep. But this? Everything she had was taken from her in one cruel twist of fate yet again. Everything she had done for him, everything she had sacrificed, it meant nothing. A thing was more important to him than her. More important than their love. Daro knew the pain must have been extraordinary, but she had done everything she could, what more could be have asked of her? Small fingers curled themselves into shaking fists. She felt herself slip into blind rage, blindly lashing out against the walls and floor as best she could.

Daro cursed herself. She was such a fool, thinking she could ever be accepted by anyone, least of all an alien. This was her reward for trust. For love. Her reward was only a short and painful life in chains. Proud defiance pressed those thoughts away. She would escape somehow. Daro followed the chain that was attached to the steel ring around her neck. At least being a quarian had afforded her some reprieve. The batarians wouldn't dare implant her, not with her immune system the way it was. They wouldn't want to waste their newest catch. Pressing her feet against the wall and pulling the length with all the strength her weary limbs could muster. The chain did not budge in the slightest, the quarian girl collapsing onto the floor of her cell. It was hopeless. Even if she managed to break free from her chains, how would she escape from a fully crewed starship? This was it. This was her future. A life in chains.

"Mother. Father. If you're out there… please… help."

Daro's words were met with silence. It was a foolish gesture. They couldn't hear her. They were long dead. She was alone. She had always been alone. That she had ever entertained a thought otherwise had been a mistake. A costly mistake.

Daro felt the kick of the engines as the ship came to a slower speed, likely docking in whatever foul destination the slavers favored. Daro heard armored footsteps echo down that hall before the locks on her cell door disengaged and opened, four batarians entering her cell carrying simple cudgels and assault rifles. One of the batarian produced a simple pair of shackles, forcing her arms behind her back before restraining them. Another removed the length of chain attached to her collar, the other two keeping their rifles trained on her as he replaced the chain with a longer length he carried. Resistance would be a deadly mistake. Daro knew better than to fight back in her current predicament.

The batarians dragged Daro to her feet, pulling her through the corridors of the slaving ship and out into the bustling streets of wherever it is she was. The crowds were thick with aliens of all races. Batarians mostly, but also turians, asari, krogan, even a few humans. Bright neon signs glowed at every street corner, towering structures stretched high into the darkness above in every direction. The slavers dragged her further through the crowd, the armed batarians keeping a tight guard on their latest prize. They eventually came to a building guarded by mercenaries, the slaver in the front of the pack displaying a card before the guards allowed the group through.

The chamber they entered was large and filled with people, each one of them carrying a data pad. The room was dominated by a stage of sorts, backed by a large screen displaying various names and numbers which was flanked by armed guards. Daro quickly surmised that it must have been an auction house of some kind. The slavers intended to sell her to the highest bidder. The group approached the stage before they were stopped by a volus who seemed to be arguing with the slaver at the head of the pack. Daro thought of using the unexpected intrusion as a chance to escape, but gave up such folly. If the slavers did not kill her, the guards would. She didn't have many options. Dying was certainly not one of them. She'd be free of this place, one way or another, and she'd find Jason and the foreman. There would be hell to pay for this betrayal.

After their short spat, the volus seemed satisfied, taking Daro's leash away from the batarian and leading her up onto the stage before approaching a podium and addressing the crowd on the newest sale. Daro didn't listen, feeling raw rage embrace her as she looked out into the crowd of her hungry potential buyers. She wanted to scream, to cry for aid that wouldn't come. She was alone. Forever alone, like the rest of her people. That was the only reason this was allowed to happen. She was quarian. Her life only had value when she was in pain, and then only when it was suffered for someone else. The lack of irony was ironic in and of itself.

Daro felt strong arms wrap round her waist, a krogan lifting her petit form on display for the crowd like a piece of meat, sneaking a grope in for good measure. Rage at the indignity burned in her lungs, thrashing against the guard, eliciting a wave of laughter from the crowd. They laughed at her shame, her humiliation, her pain. And why not? She was just a quarian. The value of her life was entirely up to them, literally. The krogan put her down, forcing her to her knees, holding her by the leash that was linked to her neck.

"A rare quarian specimen, fresh off the pilgrimage." The little volus squeaking into the lowered microphone. "Starting bid at twenty credits!"

Twenty credits? Was that all her indignation, her rage, her life were worth? Daro struggled to get back to her feet, anger fueling her into a blind fit. The krogan didn't waste any time forcing her back down, stomping the back of her knee into the ground, forcing her tender quarian kneecap into the solid pedestal. Daro gave a wild shriek as the mix of pain, fear, and hate came to the boiling surface. She had never felt the need to kill something so desperately in her entire life.

"A feisty specimen. Perfect for long shifts in the mines. Bidding will begin at fifty credits instead." Daro wanted to slice the suit canisters on the volus' back, to watch him explode from the inside out. She wanted to watch the krogan forcing her onto her knees like a varren waiting for its treat burn a slow, horrific death. Daro didn't know she was capable of hating anything so much in her entire life. She didn't even hear what the volus was saying. Disorientation, anger and confusion had nearly broken Daro's ability to think altogether. It felt like she was watching a bad vid, and any moment somebody would turn it off, and she could go back to her studies, or playing a vid game with Shen.

The krogan picked the struggling quarian up off the floor, the slavers pulling at her collar as Daro struggled to her feet. It seemed she had been bought, the batarian's all sharing a wide grin displaying their needle-like teeth. Daro didn't even know how much she had sold for. She didn't care. She was dragged back out into the streets, an asari waiting by a parked hover car wearing what looked like black asari commando armor. Handing her data pad to the batarians, the slaver passed her Daro's leash, pointing to the open door of the hover car. Daro once again thought to run, wondering if the batarians would fire into the crowd should she flee. One glance into their black eyes shook any doubt from her mind. Daro climbed into the luxurious interior as her asari buyer had a few brief words with the slavers, blue-skinned alien afterwards joining the quarian inside the vehicle, sitting in a formal and business-like fashion across from her. The turian chauffer closed the door, bathing the women in silence before he climbed into the driver's seat and drove them away from the bustling auction house.

The asari watched the sky lanes as Daro stared daggers at the thing that dared call itself her master. In that short instant, Daro had run through countless possible ways of killing her from her present position. As though sensing her thoughts, the asari turned her blue eyes to the young quarian, a nimbus of biotic light playing across her fingertips. Daro's eyes narrowed in a glare that promised a painful death. Her words spilled forth like venom.

"I don't know who y-"

The asari cut her off with a raised hand, her voice calm and cool.

"No speaking. I know quarians have a tendency to be... less than cooperative, but I assure you that things will be much easier for you if you learn to hold your tongue."

Daro sank back into her seat, her silver eyes not leaving the asari for an instant. Engaging a biotic in such close-quarters was not a wise decision. Daro would escape, somehow, but not now. She would bide her time. She was a proud daughter of the Fleet. She would not submit. Especially not to some dolled up asari fool.

The hover car slowly drifted to a halt, the turian chauffer opening the door to allow the asari to exit before pulling Daro from the vehicle, taking a tight grip on her leash. They had arrived in some filthy district deeper into the city, clearly on some sort of space station, her would-be masters pulling her through narrow corridors and down deep stairwells until they came to a guarded door that parted with a pneumatic hiss.

Deep, dark red light spilled forth as they walked through what appeared to be a repurposed series of apartments, stripped bare save for harsh metal and concrete. Daro saw women of all races kept in chains, shackled to walls or left to dangle from the ceilings. Asari, turians, salarians, humans, and more than a few quarians. Daro even spotted a drell, collapsed against the wall. Draped cloth covered empty doorways, faint moans and other lewd sounds audible over throbbing bass that came from an unknown source deeper in the complex

This place... No. No, it wasn't possible. Not this. Anything but this. The cool voice of the asari cut through the noise, her posture straight and belying authority.

"This is your new home. You will serve our clientele diligently or you will be punished appropriately. You might be entertaining naive thoughts of escape. Don't. You will not succeed."

The asari pulled back a draped cloth from an empty doorway, revealing a quarian girl standing against the wall, her skin bare, her hands hoisted above her head . Beads of sweat formed all along her body, heavy-lidded eyes meeting Daro's. The girl was muttering incoherently, delusional from the intense and deadly fever wracking her body. An arm weakly pulled at its restraints, only to find no give. It was obvious the girl barely enough strength to even move. Daro's eyes widened in pure terror. She couldn't look away, drinking in the abysmal hand of fate that she had been dealt. A whorehouse. That was her new life. The new beginning she had been granted by her human lover. This was the future he had built for her. In that moment, Daro felt all her hope slip away, taken away as she stared into the eyes of that dying girl.

"This is what happens to quarians who attempt to leave." The asari's voice held no mirth, despite the small smile that twisted its way across her violet lips.