-Jack-
The prisoners of the holding cell launched into a frenzied panic when the sound of the thrusters kicked in. When the room physically moved, and Jack felt that familiar lurch that comes with a ship's liftoff beneath her feet, the prisoners screamed. The Alliance woman, Ashley, had been right about one thing at least: they were certainly on a ship. Jack closed her eyes, drowning out the annoying shouts of her fellow captives, and concentrated. She wondered where they were taking them, and more importantly: what had become of Miranda?
"Oh God, oh God, oh God," a thin man sitting beside her began muttering; his hands clasped at his waist, his body rocking back and forth, and his eyes darting around the room in frenetic lines.
"Shut the fuck up, man," Jack snapped. "It's just a liftoff. You never been on a ship?"
His face turned to her and the corners of his mouth curled up into a snarl. "You shut up! This wasn't supposed to happen! This is all wrong! I'm not supposed to be here! I'm a free man!"
"You'll be a free man with a broken jaw if you open your mouth again," Jack warned.
He frowned, started to say something, but thought better of it. He stayed quiet then.
The whole room lurched sideways for a moment and any prisoners that had crawled to their feet during liftoff in some pathetic attempt to convince themselves they had some semblance of control spilled back down to the ground in a screaming wave of bodies. Jack planted her cuffed wrists on the ground, steadied herself, and waited for it to pass.
When the ship final did level off and returned to a calm, restful, state-the engines humming quietly from beneath the floor-the prisoners finally started quieting down. Some held hands and tried soothing one another, some stared wide-eyed into nothing trying to get a mental grip on their situation, but most simply sat sobbing into their hands. Jack grimaced; it was pathetic. Her eyes landed on Liara across the room and her grimace turned to a scowl. The asari stood out amongst the crowd because she was the only one alone. Truly alone. The others had given her at least five feet of distance at either side. Liara was staring at the ground, whispering to herself, her eye twitching. Jack figured the cunt was crazy, but she felt no sympathy. Not after what the bitch had done to her and Shepard and, hell, everyone.
She remembered something Liara had told her, though, when she was stuck hanging in that god-damned shed. Jack turned to Sam and narrowed her eyes on the girl. "Hey," she called.
Sam lifted her head. The girl's eyes were red and damp, but she had remained quiet and calm during liftoff, and Jack respected that at least. "Yes?"
"Did you sleep with Miranda Lawson?"
Sam's mouth fell agape and her eyes flicked to the side. "Oh, I..."
"Answer the question," Jack pressed. "And tell me the truth."
Sam swallowed and her cheeks blushed. Jack saw the girl was afraid of her, though she didn't know why. She'd never so much as spoken a word to her. When the girl's eyes fell back to her, there were tears at their corners. "Y-Yes, but-"
"You fuck her?"
Sam's brow lifted, shocked. "What? No! It wasn't anything s-sexual! I just... stayed at her side one night." Sam swallowed, took a breath, and fixed her dark eyes on Jack's. "She spoke mostly of you."
The girl was too damn earnest to be lying, and that was good. Jack still wasn't entirely sure where she and Miranda stood, but knowing she hadn't slept with Sam was a weight off her shoulders. "What did she say?"
Sam smiled then, and despite her hair in uncombed tangles and her eyes red and puffy, she looked pretty. "She cares for you very much. You're... very lucky."
Jack tried returning the smile, but felt her lips waver. She wasn't even sure if Miranda was alive, and with her current predicament she wasn't sure how long she'd be alive, either. It didn't exactly feel 'lucky'. Still, she nodded to the girl. "Thanks."
Sam nodded back, flashing that pretty little smile, and then rested her head on her knees and closed her eyes.
Jack thought rest sounded like a good idea so she leaned back, closed her own eyes, and drifted to sleep thinking of the night she shared with Miranda on the beach; the night that seemed, now, like a lifetime ago.
She awoke sometime later to commotion. Her eyes blinked open and she stretched the stiffness from her neck. Kasumi was beside her. She turned to the thief and cleared her throat before asking, "What's going on?"
Kasumi was watching the other end of the holding cell. "See for yourself. The volus brought a batarian in a few minutes ago. I think they're trying to sell us now."
Jack came fully awake then. "Sell us?"
"They're slavers, remember? That's sort of what they do, don't you think?" Kasumi explained.
Jack sat straight up to peer over a turian blocking her line of sight. At the opposite end of the room, a tall batarian in black armor was standing before a volus with his hands folded across his chest. Batarian's were fucking ugly, but this one was the fucking ugliest she'd ever seen. All four of his eyes were wide and angered as he stuck his finger in the volus' face.
"Serj, we've been in business for a long time, but this is an outrage!" The batarian shouted. "You can't advertise this kind of flesh on the market, attach the Commander Shepard's name to it, and then not even have the decency to show her to us!"
The volus' hands were folded amicably at his waist and he bowed his head as he spoke, likely in attempt to sooth the batarian. "I understand your upset, Lok, but if you read our notice more carefully, perhaps, you would have seen that the Commander is not for sale. That was clear."
"And I'm telling you I don't even want to buy the bitch. Hell, you'd probably charge us a god-damned mountain of credits if you were actually selling her. I just want to see, Serj. My associates want to see. We can be very generous with our spending on your fine flesh here," his four eyes blinked, took a quick scan of the room, and fell back to the volus. "But the main attraction is Shepard. You knew what you were doing when you put her name in the notice. Now let's see."
"Perhaps we could step outside to further discuss this if you have no intention of buying any of our slaves."
"Bah!" The batarian snorted. "I'll do my buying now, but this discussion is far from over, old friend." He turned his gaze to the room once more. "Walk with me. Let us take a look at your wares."
They began sauntering around the room, the volus gesturing now and then to a prisoner, the batarian listening and nodding as casually as if he were being sold ship parts instead of living beings. The prisoners stayed quiet throughout, Jack assumed that was mostly out of fear, though. The two rounded the edge of the room and finally came before her, Sam, Ashley, and Kasumi.
"If you're looking to spend credits today, sir, look no further," the volus explained, sweeping his hand over them. "These women are our top prizes."
The batarian snorted again, his eyes flicking between each of them. "These? Why? They don't look exceptional. This one," he pointed at Jack, "you can practically see her ribs. Too skinny. And her flesh is all fucked up with that tattoo shit."
"Fuck off," Jack snapped.
The batarian chuckled at that. "Mouthy, too."
"All four of these women have direct ties to Commander Shepard herself, though. Jack here was even aboard the Normandy during the Omega-4 mission."
The batarian's brow lifted, all four eyes widening with interest. "Really, now? You've been to the center of the galaxy, girl? What did you see?"
"Nothing as ugly as a fucking batarian," Jack told him.
Again, the batarian laughed. "Ha, spirited! How much for the loudmouthed bitch?"
"A million."
"You're charging a million credits for this skinny tramp!?" The batarian snapped. "Serj, you've finally lost it. I won't pay that much. I'll give you two-fifty."
"Again, my friend, the prices on these girls are fixed prices because of their connections with Commander Shepard. I cannot haggle with them."
The batarian groaned his displeasure, but said nothing more on the subject. All his eyes swept them again, this time landing on Sam. "How about the dark-skinned girl? Her eyes are practically swollen shut with tears, but I can clean her up and she's cute enough for what I need."
"Two."
The batarian considered it. "Cheaper than I expected. Why?"
The volus shrugged. "She's not important. Only the Commander's former Comm Specialist."
Jack heard Sam sniffling beside her. She turned and saw the girl hugging her knees, head down, and trembling. The batarian was hovering over her, his hand on his oddly-angled chin. Jack saw the internal debate written on the lines of his hideous face. He was trying to figure out if she was worth it. Jack glanced at Sam, then back at the batarian. "Do me a favor and take her, would you? The fucking girl cries constantly, and when she's not crying, she's blabbering on and on. Annoying as shit. Think she pissed herself too, might want to clean that up. You batarians are used to having your hands in other people's piss, aren't you?"
Sam lifted her head to look at Jack; confusion and hurt on her face.
The batarian regarded them both with mild interest before looking back to the volus. "I'd put a gag on that one if I were you," he said, nodding to Jack. "Also, I don't think I'm looking to spend that kind of credit today, Serj. Show me a human girl for, oh, let's say a hundred-thousand?"
The volus led him further down the line. When they were out of earshot, Sam leaned forward and whispered, "Thank you."
Jack nodded her welcome.
"No!" A shrill scream cracked the quiet of the room.
The batarian had a blonde, busty, women in his hands. He was holding her shaking body steady and examining her. The woman screamed again, and he slapped her.
"Hey!" A man with a goatee and a horribly bent nose shouted, trying to awkwardly clamber to his feet in his shackles. "That's my wife! You don't touch my wife!"
"Down." The volus commanded.
"Get away from my wife!" The man screamed again, getting to his knees.
The volus unsheathed a black baton, flicked a switch on its handle, and the tip glowed with crackling blue electricity. He jabbed it forward into the man's bare stomach. The guy screamed, shook, an dropped to the floor. "Restrain him," the volus commanded to the other two standing at the door. They rushed forward and removed the man's shackles as he was recovering from the blow. They flipped him on his back and relocked his hands behind him before pulling his feet up into a hogtie. He shouted at them, and they produced a leather muzzle to wrap around his lower face, turning his shouts into muffled nonsense.
"Please!" The blonde woman was pleading, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I'll take her," the batarian said. "And what about the turian? I need a worker. He the strongest you got?"
The volus nodded. "Most certainly. One-fifty."
The turian at their feet looked visibly shaken. "What? No! You can't do this to me! You can't just- just sell me!"
"His knee looks all swollen up, Serj," the batarian pointed out. "That could diminish his ability to work hard in the later years of his life. How about... two for both? Big Tits here and the turian."
Either the volus wasn't much for haggling, or he wanted to wrap things up, because he promptly nodded and said, "Yes. Sold."
"Good," the batarian said, shaking the little alien's hand. "I'm in loading bay four. Have them in restraints and stored in my cargo hold within the hour?"
"Certainly, Lok."
They shook once more and exited the room, the batarian going right back to his protest about the 'famous' Commander Shepard. The blonde woman was dragged out in sobbing hysterics. The turian complained only briefly, then the volus turned on their electric batons and that shut him up. He went afterward without any fuss. The woman's husband with the crooked nose was left hogtied and gagged on the floor, sobbing himself into the muzzle.
"Well that's that," Ashley Williams spoke up over her shoulder. "They are slavers, and we're going to be sold off as slaves."
"Miranda's still out there," Jack reminded her.
"And The Commander," Sam added hopefully.
Kasumi shook her head. "I wouldn't count on Shepard. From the way those two spoke, it sounds like the volus have her locked up tight somewhere."
"It won't matter," Sam said. "They underestimate her. They don't know her like I do. The Commander... she will never break." Sam smiled again. "And she will find a way to save us."
-Shepard-
At some point, they had let her sleep. Shepard's rest was brief and dreamless, and ended abruptly with a flair of pain across her cheek. Her eyes came open and a blurry, dark, figure stood before her. She groaned into the muzzle around her mouth as she came fully awake and the bruises on her body ached immediately. Her hands felt numb above her head and she tried working some feeling back into them by rubbing her fingers as she shook her head, her vision returning to normal.
"Do you know who I am?"
The dark blur focused before her and took on the form of a massive krogan. The beast's eyes were a pale white; like two pearls stood in his skull instead of eyeballs. A scar ran across his cheeks and forehead. Around his hulking figure was a dark robe that spilled to the floor and pooled at his feet in a black ocean. Shepard squinted at the krogan and shook her head.
"I am the leader of these volus," he said. His voice had that gruff quality that most krogan's did, but the tone was softer, higher, and his diction was perfect. "I'm the one responsible for your current predicament."
Shepard glared silently at the beast.
"And you are 'Commander Shepard'," he continued. "The most famous, celebrated, honored, being in the galaxy. A living legend. And yet here we stand across from one another, a humble krogan, and the champion of the citadel, and isn't it peculiar that I should hold all the power and you - none of it? Complete, absolute, control over the most revered woman of all time. The power of life... the power of death. The power of pain, and the power of pleasure."
His hands reached up, cupped around her breasts, and squeezed. The krogan watched her reaction carefully, but Shepard offered none. She simply stared forward. He removed his hands.
"But us krogan are not like you, human. We don't lust for power like your species. We aren't driven by it. Our wars are for freedom and survival, not for territory or control. Humans... you are the plague of the galaxy. You take and you take, and when you've had your fill? You take some more. Now look where your greed has landed you." His hand reached up and gripped her chin, lifting it till her eyes met his. "My clan and I are liberators, girl, even though our trade is slavery. How could that be? Well, its because we intend to free this galaxy of its true biggest threat one-by-one. You. And once all your people are in chains and the galaxy enters its apex of prosperity, even you, 'Commander' Shepard, will see our ends justify our means. Humanity is a burden that cannot be tolerated any longer. And you are its champion."
He shook her chin before tossing her head aside.
"And now that I stand before you, human, and see that this is the best humanity has to offer? It has confirmed everything my people and I believe in. Your species is pathetic." He circled around her backside. "However, that's not to say you don't have your use. As you're... painfully aware of by now, I have offered you to bend the knee and serve me. I want you to get down on your filthy knees and swear yourself to me under the volus Oath. The volus... they are a wise and noble people who still believe in such things, and for them to see you do so would bolster their confidence and bring them great satisfaction." The krogan came around her other side, hands resting on his elbows. "And once you swear yourself to me, I will send a message to the entirety of the galaxy. A message that the humans great and all-powerful hero has submitted herself to our cause. You, Shepard, will bring about our clan's finest hour. The word will spread. It will be on the lips of every shadowed figure in every shadowed club around the galaxy: Commander Shepard has been tamed. They'll flock to our cause then, human. They'll come and they'll see you at my feet, serving, and it will fill them with the passion that my clan exudes - the passion to enslave your species forever." The krogan turned his attention to the rear of the room and shouted, "Lower her!"
The chain holding her hands above her head slowly released its tension. Shepard felt the cold floor press up against her bare feet. The chain lowered further, and her knees buckled under the pressure of her own body weight; her legs hadn't been used to sustain her in a very long time. She crumpled to the floor as the chain halted, leaving her hands hovering level with the krogan's waist.
"Swear yourself to me here and now and I will not punish you further." He knelt, reached around to the back of her head, and popped the buckles on the muzzle. "Consider your words carefully, human. I will hurt you if need be."
The gag came away and Shepard stretched her jaw. Her throat felt dry and itchy, and when she spoke her voice was hoarse. "What did you do with my friends?"
"Friends? Human, you have no friends. The only potential friend you have now is me, and our 'friendship' depends entirely on your ability to submit to me and obey."
Shepard cleared her throat, staring into the white pits of the krogan's eyes. "Sam, Miranda, Jack, Ashley... where are they?"
"Will you pledge yourself to me?" He asked, ignoring her question. "Don't waste anymore of my time."
"Can you see out of those things?" Shepard asked. "Your eyes, I mean."
"My vision was damaged when I was very young, but yes. I can see. Now answer my-"
"Never," Shepard cut him off, leaning forward so her nose was only inches from his. "I wanted to make sure you could see my face when I told you that. I'll never submit to you. You're a coward and you smell like a krogan, though I guess you can't be blamed for that."
Her fist drove down into her jaw. Shepard's head rocked back, something cracked, and black butterflies floated up into her vision. She reeled back from the hit, but the chain holding her hands up didn't allow her to reach the ground, so she hovered there, her head fallen back, blood trickling from her busted lip.
"Submit to me," the krogan demanded; his voice was still calm and soft, but there was malice in it.
Shepard clambered back to her knees and swiped blood onto the back of her knuckles. She laughed. "No. I don't think I will."
This time his fist exploded into her stomach. Her wind left her in one great gasp, and she folded in half, breathless and wincing from the pain.
"Submit."
Shepard couldn't breath, so she couldn't talk. She lifted her gaze to his and shook her head 'no'.
The anger finally got to the krogan. His hand snapped out, gripped her neck, and lifted her. Shepard felt her knees leave the ground. Her feet touched down only for a moment, then they were up to. The krogan was holding her in mid-air with one, powerful, arm. Air shot through his nostrils in angry bursts as he glared at her. "You pathetic human. You prolong your own suffering like a fool. You see, this is why I keep my company with volus. Their species is defined by their willingness to work with others. The krogan are a natural ally to them. We are defined by our strength and our perseverance, and we provide the volus with what they lack as they do us. But you... do you know what characteristic defines a human?"
Some of Shepard's breath had returned to her, despite the krogan's grip on her neck. She licked blood from her mouth, pursed her lips, and spit it into the krogan's face. It trickled down his scaly skin as he stared at her, incredulous. "Courage," she told him.
He growled and threw his forehead at hers. Their heads collided and Shepard's world went black as pain racked her skull. The krogan dropped her to the ground. "String her back up. Whip her if she's still conscious. She'll break. They all break sooner or later."
His voice trailed off, though Shepard wasn't sure if it was because he was getting further away, or if she was slipping deeper into unconsciousness.
As she pondered this, she blacked out.
-Miranda-
The mansion was deserted. Deafening silence choked every room. In the ballroom, spilled and shattered glasses of wine and half-finished trays of food were the only signs anyone had ever been there at all. The kitchen had been cleaned out. Both the up and downstairs halls were empty and spotless; the rugs, paintings, and anything else of value had been removed. Everywhere she looked, everywhere she checked, she found the same thing. Nothing; eery, unsettling, nothing around every turn.
It was in Shepard's bedroom that she found her clothes. Her clothes, the ones she'd been wearing when the commander had kidnapped her and dragged her into this whole thing. Miranda wished pulling them back on and feeling the snugness of clothing that was tailor-fit for you could bring her any joy, but it couldn't. There were too many things to worry about. She sat at the edge of Shepard's bed, pulled her boots onto her feet, and stood. As she was leaving the room, she saw blue sky and clouds spinning away outside the bedroom window, and realized she needed to get below soon. If they were thinking of leaving the planet's atmosphere - she'd be burned alive.
The dungeon was just as empty as the rest of the house. Her boots left ominous claps as they marched through the quiet, deserted, halls. She came upon a room with stairs leading back outside and something caught her eye near the back of a stool at the far wall. Her breath caught in her chest. It seemed too good to be real. She hurried across the room, knelt, and reached behind the stool for it.
The Carnifex heavy pistol was a welcome fit in her hand. She checked the clip, found it fully loaded with heat sinks, and slapped it back in place. Finally, something had gone her way, and having a weapon to defend herself filled her with a new sense of confidence. She stood, let the pistol fall to her side keeping a firm grip on its handle, and pushed on deeper into the dungeon.
At the very last room, just when she was beginning to doubt there was even a way into whatever lad lifted the ground apart outside and put the mansion in the air, she came upon a missing section of wall. Miranda stepped before it, pistol ready, and focused to listen. Nothing came from within, though she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Either way, she went on.
The tunnel twisted and wrapped in a dark series of turns. The walls turned to jagged stone before abruptly dropping off and giving way to sleek, aluminum, paneling. She slowed her approach, lifted the pistol a bit higher, and took cautious steps into-what looked like-the ship's interior. The hall turned a bit further on, and she pressed her back to the wall and leaned out to see what lied beyond. A wide room with floating blue screens set above control panels awaited; empty, save for the center console ring, where a sole volus was sitting in a chair that looked custom-built for his body and reading from a datapad. Miranda watched him for awhile before coming to the realization that he wasn't anywhere soon. She tucked her head back around the corner and rested it against the wall, thinking. His chair wasn't exactly pointed in the direction of the hall she'd have to approach in, but it was angled in such a way that if he lifted his head for any reason, she'd be caught out in the open. Of course, the pistol's shot could close ground faster than the volus, but she didn't want it to come to that, for his sake and hers. A Carnifex wasn't exactly the most subtle gun on the market, and the shot would likely bring the whole ship crashing down on her. She stole one more glance around the corner and figured if she hugged the far wall and made no sound, she could get the drop on the little alien.
Miranda crouched, set the gun quietly on the floor, and pulled off her boots. She put them together, tucked the top halves into her belt loop so they hung at her side, and picked the gun back up. She crept forward, her bare feet silent as a whisper on the cool floor, and stayed low to the ground as she crossed the hall, pushed herself against the wall there, and began sidling forward. Halfway to the room, the volus stirred and cleared his throat, taking one hand from the datapad and readjusting something on his suit. Miranda froze, locked the gun's sights on the volus, and waited. He went back to the datapad, and she continued her progress.
At the end of the hall, she dropped to her belly so that she was lower than the edges of the central control deck, and crawled towards it military-style. She reached it, slid her body up against the smooth aluminum, and crouch-stepped around it in a semi-circle. She came out directly behind the volus, stood, and pushed the nozzle of the Carnifex into the back of his helmet. "Make a sound and you die. If you understand, nod your head."
The volus hesitated a moment, the sound of his breath coming quicker and more anxious in his breather. He nodded.
"Set that datapad down slowly and stand," she commanded in a quiet voice.
He did as she said.
"Now lead us somewhere small, quiet, and isolated where we can have a chat. Move," she said, backing up so he could exit the control station. "Don't turn around. Walk backwards out of there and then lead the way. If you lead us anywhere else, you die. Understand?"
Again, he nodded. His chubby body looked comical as he waddled backwards out of the station, his hands raised in the air, and then began marching forward.
"Slower," Miranda told him. "If we see anyone, stay still."
The volus took a turn into a very long hall that stretched on before splitting into a 'T' at the end. They never went that far, though, because a quarter of the way down it, he turned to a door, ran a card across its front panel, and the door slid away. Miranda squinted into the room. It was a small storage area. "Good. Get in."
He went, she followed, and the door slid shut behind them.
"Sit down," she instructed, pulling a stool from beneath a shelf on their left. When he had, she kept the gun on him as she stepped behind him. "I imagine you have restraints on you. You can speak now. Where are they?"
"Holster. Right side. I'm cooperating. There's no reason to shoot me, now."
Miranda reached forward and found a pair of zip ties in the alien's belt holster. She latched a few together and instructed him to put his hands as close to his back as he could. It didn't turn out to be very far, and when she was done cuffing him, his little arms were still practically at his sides, but he wasn't moving them anytime soon. She tucked the Carnifex into her belt, pulled her boots out, and sat on the edge of a shelf to yank them back onto her feet.
"What do you want?" The volus asked, squirming a bit on the stool in his restaints.
"Answers," Miranda told him, standing and moving in front of him. "And you're going to give me them."
"I'll do no such thing," he said, raising his chin stoically. "I have no reason to answer to you."
Miranda stepped forward, pulled the pistol out, and pressed the nozzle to his kneecap. "If you want to ever walk again - you do."
The volus made a choked, fearful, sound from his breather. "You can't fire that thing! It has no silencer!"
"No, it doesn't. It will blow my cover, that much is true. You still won't ever walk again."
She squeezed the trigger.
"Alright! I'll tell you whatever you want to know, just take the gun away from my knee, please!"
She did. "Where's Jack and the rest of them?"
"In a holding cell."
"What are you doing with them?"
"Holding them."
"Don't get cute," Miranda warned, lifting the gun as a reminder.
"We're auctioning them off," he admitted with some reluctance.
"Selling them? Like slaves?"
"That's right."
Miranda narrowed her eyes onto the rims of the volus' hood. "Who the bloody hell are you people?"
"We are liberators. We deal in the trade of human flesh. Well, mostly human flesh until just recently. The Commander's party had some unexpected species gathered. It matters not, I suppose. They sell the same as any human."
"If you're slave traders, how did you get tangled up with Shepard?"
"We were sworn to her by our clan-leader some time ago."
"With the intentions to enslave her?"
"With the intentions to serve her, at first. Our clan-leader did not reveal the details of his plan right away."
"What plan?"
The volus had finally come to a crossroads. He clearly didn't want to give up any more information. Miranda pressed the gun back to his knee and glared at him. "Alright! Our leader-"
"The krogan I saw at the party? The one with the white eyes?"
"Yes, our leader," he went on, agitated at her interruption. "He had an interest in Shepard for a long time. He's not fond of humans, you see, and Commander Shepard being the most famous human in the galaxy piqued his interest. He set up a geth attack on our clan when he heard Shepard was in the same cluster as our planet, and radioed the woman for help. She came, she helped, and our leader had one of our clan offer us to Shepard under the volus Oath of Servitude."
"Is that a real thing or is that bullshit too?"
"I take great offense at our Oath being referred to in such a way."
"I don't care, answer the question."
"Yes! Yes, they're real. Of course they're real! Our whole culture if founded on the principals of our Oaths! We were sworn to Shepard, and so we served Shepard."
"But the krogan just wanted you close to her?"
"Yes. To watch her, study her, and..."
"Say it," Miranda demanded, pressing the pistol deeper into his knee.
"...and medicate her."
Miranda's brow crinkled. "Medicate? You mean you were drugging her?"
"We couldn't do such a thing. It would be a direct action against one whom we were sworn to. But when we came to Shepard, she was not in a well state of mind. She was lonely, depressed even, bored... we offered to medicate her. She accepted. What we gave her and what we did from then... well, once her permission was granted, it gave us a measure of control."
"Why were you drugging her? What purpose could that possible serve?"
The volus considered the question. "The human mind, unfortunately, cannot be 'controlled'. It is too strong, especially Shepard's. But it can be... steered, lets say. Influenced. You cannot make a thought happen, but you can plant one. And if you water it enough, it grows."
"So you kept her drugged, I'm assuming, in her food? Her drinks? And then... what? You told her ideas?"
"We whispered in her ear as she slept. We used subtle asari mental techniques to bend her mind. We flashed subliminal messaging in her datapads, her computer terminals, her shipdeck. With the combination of our medication and our perseverance, the Commander's state of mind began to shift."
"So you're the one responsible for her kidnapping us?"
There was a hint of joy in the volus' voice as he spoke. "We planted the idea that she was the fictional character of 'The Commander', and that she could do and take whatever she wanted. We drew upon truths that already existed in her mind. Her loneliness. Her kinky nature. Her attraction to her former crew mates. Those ideas were planted long before we came along, we just helped to accentuate them and draw them to the surface."
"You sick little bastards," Miranda said, shaking her head. "Why? Why go through all the trouble?"
"This is why," he explained, nodding to her. "To gather you. To gather Jack and Ashley Williams and Samantha Traynor and all the other human guests at Shepard's party. I'm not sure if our leader had that plan all along, but it certainly became the goal sooner rather than later. Shepard did as he wanted. And now we have you all. You're going to make us a fortune."
"Money, then. This is all about credits... our lives... you'd destroy them for credits!?"
"No, Miss Lawson. The credits are simple funding. Our goals are much larger than something as simple and human-like as greed! We intend to use our wealth to recruit to our cause. Then... we intend to remove the human problem from the galaxy."
"Human problem?"
"We don't like you or your species. Our leader opened our eyes to that much. You deserve to be in chains, or to simply go away. You've done enough damage to the galaxy."
Miranda shook her head, taking all this information in. "You're leader has some radical ideas. How did a krogan come to lead a group of volus, anyway?"
"He came to us as a child," the volus explained, a hint of pride in his voice. "He had been severely wounded from his neck up. Many of us thought he'd never have use of his eyes. But he was strong; that much was clear from the beginning, and so we raised him. An orphaned krogan, abandoned by his parents and raised by volus... quite a tale isn't it? He became everything we could never be: big, strong, intimidating. And yet he carried with him all of our best traits. In a way, he is perfection personified."
Miranda grimaced, disgusted by the whole damn thing. "You bastards..." Her trigger finger felt an itch, but she wouldn't pull it. She wouldn't lower herself to their level. "What are you going to do with Shepard, then?"
"Keep her, hopefully. Our leader wants her to take the Oath and stay at his side as his personal slave. It would send a great message to the galaxy if we had the 'greatest' human of all time sworn to our cause. Unfortunately, the woman's will is made of iron. Even with the withdrawal symptoms, she refuses to bend her knee."
"Withdrawal?"
"From the medication. We stopped giving it to her three nights ago. It's weakening her, but not enough. Not yet. The asari is in much worse condition."
Miranda's brow lifted. "Liara? You've been drugging Liara, too?"
"Oh, yes. Since she first came to us, and we informed the leader, he intended to use her as a tool to free us from our Oath to Shepard. We... didn't realize that by dosing her the same as the commander was far too much for the average person to handle. We nearly shattered her mind. She was far easier to manipulate, though. Her jealousy was the most obvious emotion to play on. We just had to convince her that it wasn't you or Jack or Sam or anyone else that she was jealous of, it was humans in general. We planted a seed, watered it... and, oh, did it ever grow."
"You've driven her insane..."
"Possibly," he admitted with a shrug. "If so, she was a necessary sacrifice towards our goal."
Miranda stared forward, processing all the volus' information. She came to the conclusion there was only one question left to ask. "Where are they?"
"I told you-"
"No, I mean, how do I get to them?"
"The holding cell? Ha, good luck. My clan-mates are in every corner of this ship. You'll never make it. I'll humor you, though. Jack, Sam, and the rest are on the lowest level with the rest of the prisoners. There's an elevator at the end of the next hall. Shepard is on this very floor, but I wouldn't go near her if I were you. Our leader stays near to her, waiting for her to break, and if he gets his hands on you..." The volus began chuckling beneath his breather. "On second consideration, yes, do go to your precious Commander. I'd like you to meet our leader."
"Yes, and I'll be sure to tell him you said hello," Miranda told him, then drove the butt of the Carnifex into the volus' temple. His head slumped forward, unconscious.
She stepped back to the storage room door and pressed up against the wall beside it before sliding the volus' card across the control panel. The door slid away, she peeked out, saw nothing, and headed out.
She had work to do.