Torture was a bitch, when you came right down to it. Though, if it wasn't painful, it wouldn't be torture. To give Lightener credit, he didn't cause any lasting damage. Ezmay imagined that his later machinations might involve her having to move, or walk, or run, or something. If it did, she hadn't progressed to that level of torture yet. Her body wasn't broken; Lightener seemed much more focused on breaking her mind.

There was no clock in the interrogation room where she was kept. She had no way of knowing how much time had passed since she'd woken and her initial encounter with Lightener. The only thing she was sure of was that weeks had not passed, but that wasn't terribly reassuring.

Lightener had come back to visit her two times. Each time, he'd upped the ante. The first encounter after his initial interrogation, he'd put her through the paces of electrical shock. His flunky on the other side of the two-way mirror had gleefully ratcheted up the power on her restraints and had shocked her until she was dripping with sweat, exhausted, and afraid she was going to piss herself. Her heart had fluttered in a way that had truly frightened her, and she was relatively sure she'd lost consciousness and had to be revived. When she'd come to, she was stripped to the undershirt and sports bra she always wore under her armour and there'd been burns on her chest. It was a point of pride that she didn't say anything about the data disc. If Lightener's ministrations got much more enthusiastic, she thought she could hold out. Maybe.

After he'd left, Ezmay had relaxed against the gurney and tried to ignore the jumpiness in her muscles and the faint pressure in her bladder. She'd let her head slump and her eyes close, and within a few minutes, she'd slid off the precipice into sleep. This had ended abruptly when she'd been shocked again. Her skull cracked against the gurney as she'd jerked awake, danced along with the electricity. It had taken her a moment to orient herself when it was over, and she'd realized that they weren't going to let her sleep. Deprivation worked as well, if not better than pain. And so she'd resolved to stay awake as long as she could. Back in her training days, she'd undergone training with her Alliance squad mates in resisting torture. Although one could argue that getting up at four in the morning during basic training qualified as sleep deprivation and torture as well.

When Lightener came back the next time, he'd keyed up a program on his omni-tool. All at once, the room had been filled with the sounds of pain. Screaming, and hissing, interspersed by pleading for mercy. Her heart had seized at first, as she recognized the voice. It was Garrus, begging and pleading for relief from whatever they were doing to him. For a moment she was on the brink of telling Lightener what he wanted to know. Almost. Then her mind had clicked and she realized that this wasn't real. The recording had been faked. The voice wasn't quite right; it had the flanging and the syntax didn't sound like it had been picked and spliced from previous recordings. No. It was something else that told her that it had been computer altered. Maybe it was some other poor turian bastard who'd been taken and tortured. The sound had been doctored, the voice lowered. It was close, and if she'd been any more sleep deprived or in pain, she might have thought it was him. Instead, she'd spat at Lightener's feet, hung her head, and endured yet another electrical shock.

Any time now, he'd be back in. She'd bet her ass on it. This captivity had to end. So far, he'd not let her out of the restraints, nor fed her, nor given her water. Sooner or later, she'd hit her breaking point.

'I'm an epic badass.' She thought to herself, attempting to lighten her own mood. That's what Garrus would call her. 'But I've got limits.'

To bide time, she leaned head back, let her eyes go out of focus, and retreated into memories. She let her mind drift back to the wedding night on the Citadel. Roses and romantic baths weren't really Garrus or Ezmay's style. They'd been surrounded by all the traditional accoutrements of a stereotypical honeymoon. Champagne, a heart-shaped hot tub, silk sheets. Instead, she'd cocked her head and asked Garrus if he wanted to spar. His mandibles had flared outward, and his voice was so amused.

'We just got married.' Her translator paused for a moment as it always did when he said that word. She'd spent some time with EDI researching the actual turian word and found that it wasn't exactly matched by anything in English. The turian word was something more like a blend of 'bonded,' 'mated,' and 'interlaced.' 'We've got all this romantic stuff we can do, and you'd rather fight?'

Contrary to his words, his tone seemed quite agreeable to her suggestion. Even then, Ezmay realized, the bond had begun. She knew it by how she'd never questioned if he'd rather consummate the marriage via roses or fists. She just knew.

'What would you rather do, big guy?' She'd asked, as always inwardly astounded by how he inspired her inner slut. 'Would you rather crush rose petals against one another, or would you rather do what we do best?'

He'd grabbed her suddenly then, talons going around her waist and jerking her up against his body. Her knees had gone weak as their breath mingled, face to face. A bulge lower on his anatomy ground into her hip, and she had her answer.

'Later, rose petals. I need to diversify my romantic skills. Right now…' He'd nuzzled at the crook of her neck, his nose brushed up under her earlobe and her hair. 'Right now, I'm going to…'

But he'd never finished that sentence. Usually they tussled and grappled at each other, each driving the other as far as they could towards the edge of pleasure. Usually, it was a contest to see how much pleasure they could wring out of one another, a joyful banquet of physical sensation born out of a burning need to see one another content in the moment. Usually, they were like children gleefully exploring the other, even though it was always conquered territory. That night, she'd given up control to him, letting his dominance wash over her and letting him claim her wholly. Enthusiastic practice guided him all the things she liked, and he held her back while he wrenched orgasms from her. In the morning, she'd slathered medi-gel on numerous bites, and remarked dryly about new scratches criss-crossing her hips and waist. He'd marked her in all the ways he could. The next night, they'd switched, and she was the one dominating him.

She smiled faintly in the harsh glare of the fluorescent lighting.

Nothing in the universe could snuff out something so beautiful. Not even a stone-cold bastard like Lightener.

"It's a curious thing, about your turian." The voice came from behind her. He snapped her out of reverie, and though she couldn't see Lightener, she knew he was there. She must have been wholly concentrating if she hadn't even heard the hiss of the door and his footfalls.

"I thought I'd never see you again." Ezmay remarked. "Hoped, actually."

"One of the first things the turian government did after Shanxi was dissect a dozen humans to figure out why scores of their soldiers were bonding with aliens."

She held her tongue; soon enough Lightener was circling around, still with that enigmatic half-grin on his face. He moved as a predator. Inspected her like she was the next meal for his young. The game had changed, that much was clear.

"They didn't find anything. Learned a lot about the human nervous system, though. In the end, they concluded that it must be psychological, rather than biological. Decided there must be something altogether dangerously seductive about human females that appealed to more weak-willed turian males. Have you ever wondered why it was so rare to find a human male paired with a turian female?"

"Can't say I ever gave it much thought." She replied. Instinct still told her that she needed to pick her words carefully. "Guess I always assumed it was because men found turian women butt-ugly."

"There's quite a bounty out for you right now. Did you know? Not only from the Shadow Broker, but also from some more unsavory elements. Doctors without ethics. Scientists. I'm surprised your pals at Cerberus haven't jumped on the chance to pull you and your turian apart piece by piece to see what makes you tick." Lightener moved forth then, and keyed a code into his omni tool. The restraints at her ankles went dark.

"I wouldn't say they're my pals. It's not like I hang out with them and drink beer on the weekends."

"You're an amusing woman, Ezmay Vakarian." A smile came and went on Lightener's face. He stopped fiddling with her restraints then, and got right up in her face. Ezmay could smell spearmint, laced with tobacco, on his breath. "In another life, I would have liked to have met you under different circumstances."

His hand went to her waist then, and Ezmay's stomach turned and went sour.

"This is the part…" Lightener said, a slow smile rolling over his lips. "where shit gets real, as you'd say."

Of course. Of course, this was how it went for female captives. Maybe he was a sadist and he did this with all captives. No way of telling. When Ezmay imagined it, try as she might not to, she imagined Garrus. And felt sheer, bone-splitting rage and revulsion.

"You got the cameras rolling back there?" She jerked her head towards the mirror, her hair catching on her chapped lips. Plan after plan went through her mind as Lightener's hand went under her tank top and over her ribs.

"You know it. Wouldn't want to miss the opportunity to send it to your turian."

Oh, God, if there was anything to send Garrus on a murderous rampage and ruin his judgment, it would be watching her rape.

"Well, how are you going to do this properly if you have me strapped to this table still?" She wiggled her fingers and cocked the corner of her mouth at him. "I mean, are you going to half-ass this, or what?"

Anything would work at this point. Anything to get these cuffs off. He'd freed her legs, but there was still the strap over her hips and the electric restraints on her wrists. If she could just get loose, she could do or risk anything. Maybe running her mouth could actually work to her advantage this time. Most of the time it just earned her an ass-kicking. At this point….that would do.

"I never half-ass anything, as you're about to find out." Lightener withdrew his hand and backed away. He unclipped the belt around his own waist, and laid it aside. When he came back closer, his fingers went up and seized a hank of her hair. Ezmay sucked in a breath, as if it hurt. It did, a little bit, but let him think he'd beaten her into submission.

"I'm not going to give in to you!" Somewhere, the line from one of those bottom-rack romance vids came to mind. In the movie, passion consumed the heroine and she'd delightedly spread her legs while feigning the chaste maiden.

Lightener seemed to find this beyond amusing. He leaned close and licked her collarbone. Ezmay resisted the urge to vomit on him. "You don't have to, sweetie."

"Jesus. What a pussy." She spat, and then laughed low in the back of her throat, as if he was contemptible.

That he did not like. Ezmay felt his frown against her clavicle. A-ha. Found the soft spot. Now to just twist it for all it's worth.

"A pussy, am I?" He fixed those steel-grey eyes on her. Somewhere deep inside them, she saw murder.

Ezmay swallowed hard and steeled herself.

"Did I fucking stutter?"

She had it all planned out in her mind, but Lightener freeing her from the table happened so fast that she wasn't sure she would have time before he was doing something terrible to her. In the space of time between registering Lightener's rage and finding her face pressed to the steel table he'd set his gun belt on, he'd undone the restraints, seized a handful of her shirt, and literally thrown her through space. Her fists drummed on the table and she was already arching, twisting up and trying to face him. Lightener's weight felt like a million tons on her back. They grappled, his hands twisting up one of her arms behind her back, the other nearly crushing her shoulder. Ezmay swung her free elbow back, connecting with Lightener's ribs, and was rewarded with a muffled grunt. It was just enough to shift his weight sideways, and Ezmay rolled with him. They toppled from the table, landing on the floor. She came down on top of him, his hand still on her wrist.

If it were Garrus, this kind of compromising position would have been exciting.

Without thought, adrenaline pumping, she slammed her forehead down into Lightener's nose. It cracked, and a torrent of warm blood spattered everywhere. Fingers slipped loose of her wrist, and Ezmay took the opportunity. She lunged, pushing his chin up with both hands, and sank blunt teeth into the flesh of his throat.

Salt burst into her mouth as she broke skin. Ezmay bit harder, really grinding her teeth in. If she weren't pumped, really and truly jazzed, she probably wouldn't have done the damage that she did. When she had a good gob of flesh in her mouth, she clenched her jaw down and kicked herself back. Lightener screamed.

With that, she was up and moving for the table. The gun from his belt felt good in her hands. With this, she could really dole out some pain. And dole out she did. Ezmay turned, swung back towards Lightener and brought her foot back. She aimed for his crotch, thankful that the creep had removed his codpiece when he'd been gearing up for the rape.

And now, to kick myself a field goal.

She spat the bit of flesh out of her mouth, and let go with, what she thought, was the kick of the century. Lightener apparently did not care for her choice of target. His second scream actually reverberated around the room with such force that it made her ears ring.

Then she put two rounds in his face.

"Good riddance, fucker." Blood was running down her chin, but she didn't spare a moment to wipe it off.

She turned next to the two way mirror, and dealt two more rounds through the glass. It shattered.

Behind the mirror was enough recording equipment to refit the Citadel's security system if it ever glitched out. For a second, she was tempted to empty the clip of her gun into the consoles, but she couldn't spare the bullets. And someone had to have heard the gunshots.

Sweat trickled down her back underneath the ruined shirt.

Ezmay clambered up onto the console. Couldn't escape into the hallways. Too many guards, too many people. Her eyes flicked up over the ventilation shaft. That would do.

A flat display screen was nearest her and Ezmay settled the gun down the waistband of her trousers. She lifted the display screen with shaking arms, pulling the cords loose, and rammed it into the vents. It took three tries before she'd made a big enough hole to wiggle through. The jagged metal tore at her clothes and skin as she wormed her way in. At last she was settled in, covered in dust and breathing air that tasted stale. The shaft wasn't big enough to stand upright, or even to crawl on all fours. She scuttled forward, pushing herself with her knees and elbows. All that mattered was putting some distance between herself and Lightener's corpse.