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Slaves of Cerberus	By : NakedOwlMan Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 138070 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Mass Effect and all the characters in it are owned by people that are not me. I have not made a cent off this work of fiction

Chapter List
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The sun blazing above him, the waves lapping at the shore, and a nice stiff drink in his hand while some young, starry-eyed tourist went to town on his knob.

This... was the bloody life.

Leaning back in his lounge chair, he closed his eyes and relished the feeling of a warm mouth engulfing his cock. It was a minor worry at this point that, in between telling the bird war stories and bringing her down to the beautiful beaches of Illium, he had completely forgotten what her name was.

But he was an old man now, and codgers like him did tend to be forgetful on occasion. And if she took offense... well, every week brought a new batch of girls just like her to this sunny resort, and usually there was at least one who saw his scars and tattoos and got that tingly feeling down in their knickers at the sight.

How many years had it been, now, since he had fighting for his goddamn life back on Earth? Dodging fire while watching the soldiers around him scream and fall into bloody heaps on the ground, as the Reapers pressed their assault. He had been so certain then that he would die there. Hell, he'd been resigned to it. Life like his, you don't really expect to live long enough to see retirement.

But in the end, here he was. The first year of his new life, he had at least tried to keep himself in shape. Runs on the beach, lifting weights back in his suite. Just in case the day ever came when he'd be called out of retirement and back into action.

But sod it all. After that first year, he made the decision: if he was going to be a retired old fart, he was gonna live like it. In order to see the eager young tart gobbling on his cock, he had to look past the beer gut he was starting to develop. Hopefully the girl was going to do all the work after she was done with the foreplay, or else she'd be treated to the spectacle of him gasping for air after they were finished. Hell, after the marathon session with the flirty asari maiden a month or so ago, it had taken all of his stamina to kiss her goodbye before he collapsed on his goddamn bed and slept for twelve hours.

If only the Suns could see him now. Getting old and fat, kicking up his heels on an Illium resort like some kind of big shot. But that's what he was, after all that had happened. Somehow, in the course of kicking a whole lot of arse back on Earth, he had ended up as some kind of hero. He and a group of other volunteers had successfully defended a schoolhouse full of refugees during all of the fighting, and Zaeed had gotten the lion's share of the credit when it was all over. He hadn't had the heart to tell anyone that he had had no idea those people were even in there until the fighting was over. It had just been a really good fight, and it wasn't until the crying children had come out to hug him and thank him for saving them that he realized why the Reapers were so determined to get into that school.

Still, you don't go around correcting people when they're praising your name, and he gladly took the credit and the benefits it entailed. Like this lifelong stay at a posh Illium resort, the owners fronting his bill for as long as necessary so that they could proclaim themselves as "home to some of the greatest heroes of the Reaper War." And being a hero had other benefits, of course, like the one currently trying to swallow down every last inch of his cock.

Taking another sip of his drink, Zaeed Massani looked out at the ocean and let out a low, gravelly sigh. The bloody life, indeed.

"Mr. Massani, I..." said a voice from behind him. Zaeed let out an annoyed groan as the mouth left his cock, the girl kneeling by his lounge chair gasping and sitting up at the sudden intrusion. "Oh, my," the newcomer said.

"Do you mind, love?" Zaeed said, turning his head to see one of the asari staff members. "We're in the middle of something here."

"I sincerely apologize," the asari said, trying her best not to look at Zaeed's cock still dangling out of his pants. "I wouldn't normally intrude, but you have some visitors."

Zaeed set down his drink, glaring in annoyance at the unwelcome intrusion. "Is it those film people again? If they're coming back with the same goddamn offer, you can tell them to shove it up their arses. I may be old, but I know how to use the extranet, and I've seen how much those Blasto films make. If they expect me to sell the rights to my life for less than half of what that sodding jellyfish makes, they're crazy."

"No, sir. They say they're from the Alliance, actually. They said it was very important, and that it regarded Commander Shepard."

Now that got his attention. Like everyone else, he had been watching the news about Shepard's sudden defection and return to Cerberus. Knowing her for as long as he had, he found it hard to believe that any of it was real. Hell, she was sleeping with a goddamn asari on a regular basis, not to mention all the other aliens she had fought alongside during that mission through the Omega 4 relay. Back then Shepard had made it obvious that working with Cerberus was an alliance of convenience, and that she was looking for the first opportunity to get out of it. Remembering that, Zaeed didn't think there was any way she would have thrown her lot in with those xenophobic bastards for real. But there she had been on the screen, and it was hard to argue with that.

Whatever the Alliance was doing here, Zaeed knew that his pleasant evening of whiskey and shagging was officially called off. Tucking himself back into his pants, he gave an apologetic smile to the woman kneeling in the sand by his chair. "Sorry, love," he said as he got up from his chair, trying his best not to wince at the aching in his muscles as he stood. "Official hero business and all that."

Getting up on her feet, the sexy little tart moved in close to whisper in his ear. "I'm in room 48, if you want to come by and finish things where we won't be interrupted," she breathed into his ear. With that, and a quick peck on the cheek, she strutted up the beach and out of sight.

With that taken care of, Zaeed followed the asari resort worker back to the main building. Several of the regular visitors and employees of the resort greeted him as he went, and Zaeed nodded to them all in turn. How things had changed for the founder of the Blue Suns. Once he had been an associate of turian killers and bloodthirsty pirates. Now, his main acquaintances were overweight human businessmen off on holidays to cheat on their wives, and asari matriarchs spending their twilight years sipping margaritas and hitting on men and women centuries younger than them. The Zaeed Massani of twenty years ago would have taken one look at the Zaeed of today and seen a goddamn disgrace. But fuck it. After so many years of putting his neck on the line, he deserved a rest, didn't he?

The asari escorted him to the bar, the well-populated area noisy with the sound of drunken tourists blathering on. She waved a hand over to two humans sitting at one of the tables, sticking out like a sore thumb in their uniforms. The woman, Zaeed didn't recognize. A well-built bird, though, with olive skin and the unmistakable bearing of a soldier. The man, however, Zaeed knew right away.

"Jacob Taylor," Zaeed said, walking over with a hand extended to his old comrade. "Been a long damn time. How's the Alliance life been treating you?"

"Lately? Not so well, to be honest," Jacob said, rising up and shaking Zaeed's hand.

Zaeed shook his head, a look of mild disgust on his face. "Goddamn shame what they did to folks like you. You put your arse on the line to help save the galaxy, and in return they put a bloody chip inside you like a dog. Guess I'm lucky they didn't stick one in me as well, seeing as how I took that job from the Illusive Man and all."

"I suppose so," Jacob said, looking eager to change the subject. "This is my executive officer, Tara Rooker. Rooker, this is Zaeed Massani."

The olive-skinned female soldier stiffly extended a hand to Zaeed. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Massani. Jacob has told me a lot about you."

"Only the good things, I hope," Zaeed said as he shook her hand. With the pleasantries out of the way, Zaeed settled down at the table. "So they tell me you're here to talk about Shepard. Don't tell me they've tasked you hunting her down, Jacob."

"They have, but not in the way you might think," Jacob said. He leaned in close to Zaeed, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the conversations going on around them. "This is going to be hard to believe at first, but I swear to you that what I'm about to tell you is nothing but the truth."

And over the next few minutes, Jacob told him the craziest goddamn story Zaeed had ever heard. About how the "Shepard" that had defected from the Alliance and the Council was a clone, who had stolen the Normandy and abducted the real Shepard and several of her former comrades. Some of whom Zaeed had fought alongside during their mission through the Omega 4 relay, and some he had only met at the party at Shepard's flat just before the final assault on Earth. Jacob also told Zaeed about the firefight on Ontarom, and how they had come close to capturing the heads of this new Cerberus only to lose another one of their teammates in the process.

"Bloody hell," Zaeed muttered. "Guess it's a good thing I didn't show up to that stupid fucking ceremony on the Citadel. Might have found myself caught up in this whole mess without even knowing it."

"Actually, that's why we came to see you," Jacob said. "We were hoping that maybe you could help us. Somehow, Cerberus has deposed Aria from Omega and put Balak in charge."

Zaeed shook his head in disbelief. "Balak? That goddamn anti-human terrorist? Sounds like this new Cerberus isn't quite on the same page as far as the whole 'humanity first' thing."

"It's a stalling tactic, we think," Rooker chimed in. "Cerberus has set up a defensive network outside of the Omega 4 relay, to keep us from getting through to their base of operations. The defenses are being controlled by a VI network located on Omega. If we could deactivate it, we could take out their entire drone fleet at once. But with Balak in control, no human ship will be able to even get close to docking there."

"So we need another ship," Jacob continued. "A merc or pirate ship. Any vessel that is currently being operated by a non-human crew. See, Balak and his people already know we want to land there. They're not going to trust some new, freshly-purchased ship just because it's got an alien or two at the helm. The only way we're going to get through that blockade is with a credible non-human vessel. If we had that, we could use the ship to sneak into Omega and take down the VI network without anyone suspecting."

Zaeed nodded in understanding. "And you're hoping I've kept in touch with a contact or two that might be able to get you that ship," he said. "A bit of a tall order, I'm afraid." He reached down to pat at his gut underneath his shirt. "Been out of the business for a while now, and it's not like me and all my former associates are all getting on the extranet to play Galaxy of Fantasy with each other."

Jacob and Rooker both looked deflated. "Please, Zaeed. We don't have a lot of options here," Jacob said. "If there's anyone you can think of that might be able to help us."

Zaeed racked his brain, thinking back to anyone who might have owed him a favor. "Hmm... maybe I can think of one. Krogan I fought alongside back when I first got my arse kicked out of the Blue Suns, Dugas. Paranoid bastard, but a good man to have by your side once he trusted you. After me and him parted ways, I heard that he founded his own merc company. If he's still up and running, he might have a ship that would meet your needs."

"Excellent," Rooker said. "I'll send the name back to the Orpheus. Shouldn't take long to track down this Dugas if he's still..."

"Not so fast, love," Zaeed said. "Like I said, Dugas is paranoid as hell. And he bloody well isn't going to hand over a ship just because someone asked nicely and dropped my name. And especially not to the Alliance. The only way he'd even think about agreeing to a deal like that is if I go and see him personally."

Jacob wrung his hands on the table. "Zaeed, I know it's a lot to ask. But like I said, we're getting desperate. Shepard and Liara and... and a lot of our friends are being held by Cerberus. God knows what the hell they're doing to them right now. If this Dugas is the best way for us to get a ship... you'll be well-paid, I promise you."

Zaeed rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Ain't that I'm not grateful to Shepard. But seems like there's always just one fight after another when it comes to her. At some point, you have to decide when enough is enough."

"We're not asking you to fight, Zaeed," Jacob protested. "Just come along with us to meet with Dugas. After that, you're free to come back to Illium, or do whatever you want."

"It always starts simple, doesn't it?" Zaeed said. "Just one little job and that's all we need out of you. But then comes another. And another. And soon you're right back in the thick of it. Sorry, Jacob, but at some point a man's got to hang up his boots and settle down." Seeing the despondent look on his former comrade's face, Zaeed let out a weary sigh. "Look, I'll send a message to Dugas if you'd like. Maybe he's calmed down a bit since the last time we worked together, and my word over the extranet will be enough to have him work with you. But I made a promise to myself a while ago, that I wasn't setting foot off this planet until it was in a goddamn coffin. And as much as I respect Shepard, I'm not about to break that promise just because of..."

In the middle of his sentence, Zaeed realized that the chatting bar-goers around him had gone quiet. Following their stares, he saw that they were all watching a large vid-screen at one side of the room. On the screen, that reporter with the way-too-goddamn-long name was talking into the camera.

"...have received a new video message from the former Alliance hero turned traitor, Commander Shepard," Khalisah said, her tone grave. "Before we show this video, I want to warn you that it is not for the faint of heart. My producers have done their best to censor the content, but we would advise that any of our viewers with young children might want to take them out of the room at this time."

The scene cross-faded to an image of Commander Shepard - or her clone, rather, if Jacob was to be believed. Unlike her previous video messages, which were shot on the Normandy, the scenery behind the clone was unfamiliar now. Bare metal walls that could either be some sort of colony building, or a space station.

"To my fellow humans. Today, I am afraid I must deliver you a grave message. But one that I knew, one way or another, would become inevitable if humanity continued to ignore my warnings. When I first announced my defection to Cerberus, I told you about the grave threat the other races of the galaxy posed to us. Now, terrifying new information has come to my attention. Information that confirms every last one of my fears."

The crowd watched in silence, humans and other races sitting side-by-side as the fake Shepard delivered her message. Zaeed watched the woman on the screen carefully, trying his best to spot the difference between this fake Shepard and the real one. But other than the hateful anti-alien talk coming out of her, Zaeed was buggered if he could tell them apart.

"I have received word that Ka'hairal Balak, the batarian terrorist that I was forced to temporarily ally with to help stop the Reapers, has seized control of the criminal haven known as Omega. Under his rule, the humans currently residing on this station have been subjected to the very worst cruelty that alienkind can subject our species to. And while the individuals living on this station are not technically Alliance citizens, and many of them are known criminals... I think any of you watching will agree that none of them deserve the treatment that you are about to witness. Because I have obtained surveillance footage from Omega, and what I have seen disgusts me to my very core. Take a look at this, the scene just after Balak announced his new reign over Omega."

As the video shot changed, gasps arose from the crowded bar. The new shot was a view from a highly-situated camera somewhere on Omega. Through the camera feed, screams and cries for help could be heard, mixed in with loud laughing and savage grunts.

But it wasn't the sounds that shocked the crowd. It was what was on the screen. Even with large blurs covering up a good portion of the screen, it was obvious what was occurring. Zaeed watched in shock as human men and women had their clothing torn off before being shoved against walls or even down to the dirty floor of the station by furious looking aliens. Once they were helpless, the unmistakable sounds of sex came out of the vid-screen. It wasn't long before it seemed like the entire screen was being blurred out, but somehow that only seemed to make the ghastly events that much worse.

"This is what happens when aliens are no longer restrained by the rule of law," Shepard's voice said over the blurred-out footage. "When they are free to do with humans as they please." The scene changed to what appeared to be a public square in another part of Omega. A long line of humans stood, their naked bodies covered by more blurs, as the sobbing woman at the head of the line was marched up to a raised platform. Zaeed watches as hands shot up from a crowd of aliens gathered in front of the platform, and after a few moments he realized that they were bidding on her. Once the twisted auction was over, the winning turian stepped up on the platform, grabbed his new human by the arm and, if the blur that appeared was any indication, made use of her right then and there. Meanwhile, the batarian in Blue Sun armor escorted the next slave in line for bidding up to the platform, directing her around the turian furiously fucking his new acquisition.

Another scene change, this time to a familiar sight for Zaeed: Afterlife, Aria's former haunt. The asari dancers that had once swung around the poles had been replaced with terrified-looking humans, eyes focused on the Blood Pack mercs with rifles pointed in their direction as they listlessly danced for the entertainment of the alien crowd. Meanwhile, humans were being openly bent over and fucked in the middle of the club floor by the alien patrons. It was like something out of a twisted porno vid, but there was nothing fake about the fear and resignation in the eyes of those humans.

The crowd at the Illium bar watched in deathly silence, as scene after scene of censored depravity played out on the screen. Eventually, the parade of horrors ended, and the clone's face returned to the screen.

"Remember what you saw here, fellow humans. Remember, and keep it in mind whenever any aliens talk to you about working together with them. Because what is happening on Omega is just a preview of what is to come for all of the rest of us, once aliens decide that it's not worth pretending to be our allies anymore. When that happens, where would you rather be? Up on the stage being auctioned off, or with a gun in your hands and fighting back? If you choose the latter... know that I'll be right there beside you."

An image of the Cerberus logo appeared on the screen, before the video ended and Khalisah was back on the screen. "Terrible images from Omega. And so many questions we have to ask. What..."

At that point, the screen went black. Zaeed glanced over at the bar to see the asari bartender with a remote control in her hands. "Sorry, folks," she said, her voice trembling. "I should have turned that off earlier, but I..." At a loss for words, the bartender put down the remote and rubbed at her eyes. All around them, Zaeed watched as groups started to file out of the bar quietly, the humans with pale faces and the aliens similarly shaken. Soon, there were only a few other people in the bar besides Zaeed and his tablemates, and those that remained clutched their glasses with trembling hands, their eyes distant.

"Bloody hell," Zaeed said. Looking over at Jacob and Rooker, he saw the shaken expressions on their faces. "Take it you two didn't know things were that bad on Omega, then."

Jacob gravely shook his head, while Rooker simply stared blankly into the distance, too stunned to speak.

Zaeed rose to his feet, feeling that troubling creak in his muscles again as he stood. Jacob shot him a questioning look. "Where are you going?"

"Back when I was in charge of the Blue Suns, my partner wanted to bring in batarians," Zaeed explained, leaning onto the table to relieve the mild pain he was feeling in his back. "It was the one thing I wouldn't bend on, though, and that was the reason he put a bullet in my goddamn face and left me for dead. But even after all this time, I don't regret taking that stand for a second. Because I've seen what those bastards have done to humans unlucky enough to end up in one of their slave caravans. Killing a man is one thing, but trading him like a goddamn animal? I spent a lot of time on Omega back in the day. There aren't just pirates and criminals there. There are people there who had nowhere else to go. Bloody families, goddamn it." He stood up straight, and while the pain in his back returned, he found it didn't bother him that much now. "I'm going back to my room to pack a few things, and I'll meet you at your shuttle so we can go have a chat with Dugas. And if you need me for more than that after... well, we'll just play that by ear."

He turned to walk away before either of them could respond. In his mind, he saw the old rusty case he kept stashed underneath his bed. Jessie, looks like you and I are going to have one last dance after all.
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Slaves of Cerberus