"You knew about this!? Why didn't you say something?"
Ashley stared in disbelief at Liara's face on the screen in front of her. When she'd called her friend from a rented terminal on Omega, she'd expected her to be shocked by what Ashley had found out about Sha'ira. Instead, while sympathetic, the Shadow Broker had been unsurprised by her news.
"I didn't know about her specifically. I don't even have much information about this particular market on Maglar Station. I only meant… It is not a shock that such a place exists. This war has left countless people vulnerable to exploitation, and at the same time, it has created a need for workers in order to rebuild what the Reapers destroyed. It is inevitable that some people will resort to slavery as a way to fill that need."
Ashley took a deep breath, trying to settle herself down. "I'm sorry, Liara. Of course you didn't know where she was. I don't know what I was thinking just now."
"You're worried for Sha'ira," the young asari said understandingly. "I know how that kind of fear can affect a person."
The Spectre shook her head. "It doesn't make it okay for me to snap like that." Her mind flashed back to Quelt's bloody corpse lying on the floor of his office. It wasn't that she regretted his death. The galaxy was a better place without a slave-trading piece of trash like him in it. But the anger that had seized her when she pulled the trigger frightened her. Sha'ira would need her to keep her head if Ashley was going to have a chance at saving her, not shoot first and turn on her friends later.
"It's all right," Liara reassured her. "The important thing now is that we find her. You have sent me the data from the batarian's system. Hopefully it will offer some guidance on how to proceed."
"I appreciate it. I know you must have your hands full with Shepard's recovery."
"I'm fine." The red-headed commander staggered into the frame, wearing a pair of Alliance-issue pajamas and in obvious pain when she moved, her words not-withstanding. "It's just a few cuts and scrapes. Nothing to worry about."
"Shepard," Liara told her, a mild disapproval registering on her pretty face, "While I appreciate your desire to help, you are not supposed to be up." She turned back to Ashley. "She is not easy to get into bed."
Shepard smirked and Liara blushed when she realized what she said. "Yes, well, at all events," she blurted out, eager to move past her gaffe, "You do need to lie down."
"You're probably right," Shepard conceded, her tone turning serious, "I'll go back to bed. But I mean it Ash. I may be laid up, but I'll be okay. Whatever you need to find Sha'ira, we're there for you."
The commander hobbled back off of the screen and Liara returned to the problem at hand. "The Consort being who she is makes this both easier and harder," she explained. "On the one hand, she will not have been sold anonymously as part of a large lot of slaves, which would make her harder to track. On the other hand, the sort of person who has the credits to buy her will be wealthy and probably keen to hide their acquisition."
There was something chilling in the business-like way Liara could discuss the buying and selling of a person, especially someone she knew, and Ashley found herself grateful she hadn't been the one to become the Shadow Broker. Wallowing in that world couldn't be good for the soul, and she hoped that once things had settled down, Liara would do what she'd talked about and find someplace quiet to retire with her commander. Right now, though, Ashley and more importantly, Sha'ira needed her current position.
"Okay, so how am I going to get onto this station?", she asked. "The assholes who sold Sha'ira probably know something about where she is."
"You will probably need back-up," Liara told her. "This is a fairly sizable operation. Sending in one person, even a Spectre, would be extremely dangerous."
"What about Aria?", Ashley suggested.
"I doubt she will be of much help. She seldom acts unless there's something in it for her, and right now, she is fairly weak. Her forces were badly depleted retaking Omega, which will not make her more charitable."
"You're probably right," Ashley sighed. "I had to use the skipper's name just to get her to help me find Quelt."
"I will do my best to locate some assets that can be of use," the asari promised her, "As well as try to find you a way onto the station." She paused. "I'm sorry, but it may take a little time."
Ashley swallowed hard. With every passing hour, Sha'ira might be descending further into some hell, but what choice did the Spectre have? Being stupid and impulsive would only ensure that the Consort stayed in the hands of whatever monster had purchased her. No, Ashley would wait even if it killed her.
Knowing she had to be patient was one thing, but as she sat at her table in Afterlife, the reality was proving to be quite another. An hour and a half ago, Liara had sent her a message telling her to go to the club and wait for her contact to arrive, and with every passing minute, the Spectre was getting more irritable. Afterlife's flesh show, which the previously day had merely reminded her of her lost love, now felt more sinister. She wondered how free the dancers really were, and what other services Aria compelled them to provide to her clients. So distracting was her anger that she that she only noticed her contact had arrived when she heard the sound of his gravelly voice behind her.
"Well, if it isn't Shepard bloody junior."
Ashley turned at the words, surprised when she realized who it was. She'd only met Zaeed Massani once, at Shepard's party, and that night she'd been much too preoccupied with Sha'ira to pay him much mind. Still, with the massive scar around one eye, the man wasn't easy to confuse with anyone else.
"Zaeed," she said sharply, annoyed at his nickname for her, "I'm guessing you're the one I'm supposed to be meeting. What the hell are you even doing out here in this shit hole?"
He shrugged, sitting down across the table from her. "Just taking care of some old business. Anyway, the doctor found me and made me a deal to help you find this girl of yours."
"What kind of deal?", she asked warily. She'd never trusted mercenaries and while having worked with Shepard bought him a little credit, it was just a little. Based on some of the stories she'd heard from Tali, he wasn't exactly a saint. Of course, a saint might not be what she needed right now.
"The kind that's none of your goddamn business." Zaeed shook his head. "I don't know why I'm trusting them after that bloody refinery disaster, but I guess saving the galaxy gets them one more shot."
Ashley wasn't entirely sure what the old mercenary was talking about, but she wasn't really in a position to worry about it either. "All right," she said simply, "I'll leave it between you three. So do we have a plan as to how we get onto this mining station?"
Instead of answering, Zaeed reached behind him and pulled out a set of binders, setting them down on the table between them.
"Oh, no," Ashley protested, guessing what he had in mind. "I am not wearing those things."
"Listen," he explained, "I know a couple of people involved with this fucking operation, but not that well. They're only going to trust me if I give them a damn good reason, and it can't bloody well be that Council Spectre Ashley Williams and I want to tear the place apart looking for some asari." She nodded reluctantly, and he continued, "But if I bring them some choice merchandise, nobody's gonna question what an old merc is doing there."
She gritted her teeth, reminding her that this was for Sha'ira. "All right. We rent a shuttle, get out to the station, and turn over rocks until somebody tells us where Sha'ira is. Anybody gets in our way though, they're getting their asses kicked."
"Whatever you say, sweetheart." Zaeed gave her what passed for a smile on his weather-beaten face. "Something tells me you're going to be a lot more fun to work with than your boss was."
Ashley wouldn't have thought it was possible, but Maglar Station actually made Omega look cheerful. The old mining facility was half a wreck, with discarded machinery, ore carts, and exposed wiring strewn all around the vast chamber that had once been used to sort the minerals.
It wasn't the physical plant that was getting to her though. It was the people. Though the hall was filled with an incredible diversity of species, there were really only three types present. The first were the buyers, a collection of predatory individuals, their disgusting gazes crawling over the "merchandise" as they walked from one make-shift stall to another. Another group were sellers, hard-eyed men and women herding their prisoners around like cattle, shoving them out for inspection like pieces of meat whenever anyone would show the slightest interest.
It was that third group though, the largest, that Ashley couldn't take her eyes off of. Looking at their clothes, she could tell that it had only been days or weeks since many of them had been farmers, or doctors, or engineers, living perfectly normal lives. They were ordinary people until the Reapers came, and just when they thought they were safe from that nightmare, they'd fallen into the clutches of these animals. A few of the prisoners seemed defiant, but the bulk of them, whether asari or human, turian or drell, had the same haunted looks and the same blanks stares, as if the succession of horrors they'd been through had overwhelmed them.
In spite of her revulsion, the Spectre kept forcing herself to look at the masses of captives, hoping to see Sha'ira there among them, but there was no sign of the asari she loved. The only thing she got was the occasional catcall, cries of "Nice ass," and "How much for that pussy?", that bothered her more than usual. She'd dealt with pigs with big mouths ever since she sprouted breasts, but usually, she had a rifle in hand, ready to kick the ass of anyone who crossed the line. Now, in handcuffs and without her guns, she felt uncomfortably vulnerable even if she wasn't really a prisoner.
About half-way across the hall, Zaeed stopped in front of a grizzled turian, a tall, ugly brute with a long scar along one side of his face who was watching the room with a jaundiced eye. "Massani!", he laughed, "Good to see you again. I've got to admit I was surprised when you called. Slaving never was your line of work."
"Desperate times, Gradian," he snorted. "Had a nice little nest egg set aside for my retirement when those tentacled bastards blew up the bank it was in. Figured I better find a way to make my money back before I get too fucking old to shoot straight."
The turian stepped off of the wall he'd been lounging against and looked at Ashley. "She's not a bad start I guess. Pretty enough, if you're into humans," he opined, his detached tone making it clear that he wasn't. "I'm sure one of the flesh merchants will give you a few thousand credits for her."
"This one's no whore," Zaeed told his old associate as Ashley fought down the bile in her throat at the turian's words. "She's Alliance special ops. Tried to take me down over that job I did for Cerberus a year or so back. That's where she got this."
He reached out a callused hand and brushed back the marine's dark hair, revealing a bruise around her right eye. He really had given it to her, but it wasn't in battle, just in a fleabag motel on Omega the night before after they'd agreed this would be their cover. Her real identity, as a Spectre and friend of the feared Commander Shepard, might spook potential buyers, but they wanted her to be distinctive enough to attract the right kind of attention.
"I figure even with the war over, there's gonna be plenty of need for good soldiers to clean up the mess, and this one's pretty bloody skilled." He rubbed his side. "Still hurts like a bitch where she shot me."
She glared at Zaeed, trying to take the loathing she felt for this place and redirect it into a convincing performance as a defiant prisoner. It seemed to have worked well enough, because Gradian took notice. "Looks like she's still got some fight in her."
"Well, she's a goddamn soldier, not a nursemaid. That's why I'm looking for someone who appreciates quality merchandise," he explained, "Not like this lot, buying half-starved scum by the truck-load."
The turian stroked his mandibles thoughtfully. "I think I know somebody who fits that description. She's handled some of the more interesting specialty items coming through here."
"Then that sounds like the bitch I need to talk to," Zaeed agreed.
"Come on, I'll make the intro," Gradian promised as he led them across the floor. "But I have to warn you, this asari can be a little… intense."
So, what do you think of Ashley's new partner? I haven't gotten to write Zaeed much and he's lots of fun. Plus, dubious slave dealers and much more coming up. Hope you're still enjoying the story.