Ashley lay in the dark, repeating the names to herself. Tiana V'sen. Bella Davis. Q'norl nar Tonbay. Twenty two in all, the names they'd passed around the compartment in secret whispers so that when the time came none would be left behind. And when she came to the end, she added the twenty third. Ashley Shepard.

She didn't know how long she'd been in here. The guards had brought food four times- if you called a ration bar and a pouch of water each food- but she doubted their kindness extended to feeding captives three times a day. Melina, a quiet turian girl, had somehow gotten a fairly bad burn on one leg during her abduction, and twice now a medic had come in and slathered medigel on it with all the expression of an engineer rendering down parts. That was all she had. They told stories to keep themselves sane, one at a time while everyone else listened for guards, played word games and hatched half-baked escape plans. Ash was careful about those- she wanted everyone still thinking about fighting back, but not so much they'd get everyone killed. So she made sure to join all those discussions, letting them go on but firmly cutting off anything that sounded too risky.

She was yanked out of a light doze by the sound of a key rattling in the doorknob, much closer than she should have allowed. Frantically she scraped her cuff against the bedstead in the warning signal, and just in time the whispering stopped. The door swung open, a rectangle of almost blindingly bright light, and Ash closed her eyes instinctively. Before she could open them again, she heard the heavy tread of boots on the floor, then a click as her cuffs were opened. A hand grabbed her under the arm and hauled her to her feet, and Ashley gasped in pain as her leg muscles, unused for hours or days, jerked tight as wires.

A muffled "C'mon" was all she got from the guard before he started hauling her along, leaving her to work the kinks out of her legs the best she could. Ash kept her head bent down, but flicked her eyes from side to side, trying to spot anything that might help. They had to stop at frequent intervals to pass through pressure-tight doors, but there was no telltale thrumming of a mass effect field under her feet. Not a ship. A station, probably, but still vacuum outside. Damn. Bare walls. Nobody in the corridors. And in a corner-

Ash threw her feet out going over the next pressure door, stumbling and sprawling down on the deck. Before the guard could turn she was already getting up, raising one hand to ward off a blow, yelling "No, don't, wait!". While that had his attention, her other hand pushed her off the deck, palming an object from an unswept corner the way Jack had shown her when she was six. By the time the guard grabbed her again she'd tucked it into the waistband of her underwear and was on her feet, making no resistance. The guard looked at her for a moment, then lowered his fist and grabbed her arm, confining himself to a growl.

"Watch where you're going, you stupid bitch."

It was still an opening. "Hey, I've been chained to a bed for a while, in case you hadn't noticed. Where are we going anyway?" The guard turned, grabbing her chin and yanking it up.

"We're going to see someone who wants to see you. That's all you need to know. Now shut up and keep walking."

Eventually they stopped in front of a blank metal door, no different from any of the others that lined the corridor. Ashley's escort palmed it open, gave her a push towards it, then- to her immense surprise- keyed her cuffs open before pushing her through it.

"Ah. Come in, my dear. Do take a seat."

Rubbing at her raw wrists, Ashley turned to see a small, slight, elderly man smiling up at her from the other end of a small dining table. His hair was iron-grey, close-cropped, and his eyes tracked her with a fixed gaze that reminded her of the arthropod predators they had back on Horizon. Even before she saw the submachine gun laid casually beside his place setting on the table, those eyes dissuaded her from making any kind of play for either the door or him. Something in them told her she'd be dead before she took her third step. She froze for a moment and the man made an impatient gesture. "Come, my dear, sit down. I know you must be hungry." His voice was mild, lilting, and might have been kind in another time and place.

Numbly Ash sat down, only now noticing that the table was set for two, with silver-covered plates and clear glasses. As her shock receded, Ashs' skin started to crawl. She didn't believe the Santa Claus act for a second, and thinking about what some kind of boss slaver might plan for a dinner date put a sick pit in the bottom of her stomach. But God, whatever was under that cover smelled good…

"Why am I here?" She blurted it out, only remembering at the end what happened to the other girls who spoke without first being spoken to. The man chuckled softly, lifting his plate's cover.

"Just to keep an old man company. Come now, my dear- if I'd wanted you stripped and brought here to me, don't you think I'd have done that? Just eat with me, give me someone to talk to, and you'll get a decent meal." Ash leaned forward and took the cover off her plate. The smells hit her full in the face- some kind of rich stew, thick with meat and vegetables, with two slices of thick, crusty bread smeared with butter. Before she could stop herself she'd snatched up the spoon that was her only utensil and taken a heaping mouthful, eyes going wide as she burned her tongue but still swallowing the entire mouthful. It was the best thing she'd ever tasted, hitting her stomach like solid bliss after days of nothing but protein bars. At the other end of the table she could see the old man smiling thinly. Fuck him. If this was his thing, she might as well play along and get some decent food.

"I had a feeling you'd see it my way." The man lifted his spoon and dug in, his eyes still watching Ashley. She forced herself to slow down, take small bites to keep her stomach from rebelling, think about how she might get some of this back to the others. The stew was probably a nonstarter, but maybe some of the bread-

"Tell me, my dear." She looked up from the food suddenly, listening carefully to her captor. Wouldn't do to be a dull dinner companion, under the circumstances. "Have you ever heard of the Skyllian Blitz?" Ash froze for a moment, then deliberately finished her mouthful, swallowed, and wiped her mouth with a napkin before responding.

"A little. I mean, mostly in school in Modern Human History. Some kind of big battle, right, after the First Contact War but before the Reapers?" Keep your voice light. Don't panic. So he wants to tell war stories- don't give him a reason to think it means anything to you. "Did you fight there?"

"That I did." He favored her with another glacial smile. "It was glorious. Dozens of different factions coming together around a common goal. Doing together what they never could do apart. Spitting in the face of the Alliance, and the Council, and everyone who tried to hold down the human spirit. And do you know what happened?"

Ash did, but she had a feeling My Mom kicked your ass was going to be the wrong answer. "What?"

***

The smile vanished. "We hit a planet called Elysium. Just another crap little colony in the middle of nowhere, another name to check off our list. The garrison there held us off for four weeks, until relief forces showed up. We were pinned between them." His eyes grew distant. "They slaughtered us. I lost…many friends that day. Some of them were the only people in the damn galaxy I could trust or talk to." The smile was back. "But I'm sure you must have heard this story. Haven't you, Miss Shepard?"

Ash tried to stand and run, but her body was suddenly heavy and numb, and all she managed was an uncontrolled lurch backwards that ended with her flat on her ass, staring up at the ceiling. She tried to stand, but her arms wouldn't work, giving way like soft clay under her weight. Then the old man was crouching over her, grabbing her by the wrists and pushing her forward over the table. His hands, cool as snakeskin, pushed her shirt up, and Ash fought to clear her head. All she could manage was a trembling whisper.

"What do you want from me?" From behind her came a dry chuckle, and the sound of leather being carefully shaken out.

"A great many things, my dear. But first…all I want is for you to scream." As the nine-tailed whip came down against her back for the first time, Ashley bit her lip. No way. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Eventually, she screamed.

***

Later, when they hauled her back to the room and chained her back up to the bed, Ash curled up into a ball and tried not to cry. After a few moments, she gave that up and just sobbed, rocking slowly from side to side. Her captor had worked her back over until it looked like raw meat, deep red score marks interwoven with purple-black bruising, pain that beat at her nerves until it drowned her under the sensation. She'd screamed. She'd screamed over and over, pleaded, begged him to stop, groveled before a man her mother had beaten decades before. She hadn't cared. She didn't want to be Commander Shepard's daughter, in that moment. She hadn't wanted to be rescued. She just wanted the pain to stop.

Eventually, it had. And then he'd told her, in precise detail, what he was going to do with her. Nothing more, for that night, before he threw her shirt back on and called the guard to bring her back to the cell. But it had been enough.

"Hsst." Ash raised her head at the hiss. It was Summer, the next girl over. "Ash. Here you go." Ash reached out blindly, and felt a small packet pressed into her hands. "Melina's been saving about half her gel when the medic comes, for an emergency. Sounds like that's you. It's not much, but do what you can." Ash felt her eyes tear up again. She wanted to say no, to save it for a life-threatening injury, but the wounds on her back were too deep, the pain too harsh for her to do anything but whisper thanks and try to paint it on the worst of her wounds. And when it was all gone, Summer reached out a hand, and Ash held it, and cried, the old pirate's words echoing over in her head.

Oh God. Oh Mom, please. Please stop looking. Please don't find me.