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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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Stepping through the door of Dugas's mansion was like stepping back into another era. Zaeed and Rooker's eyes took in the view with awed expressions, as they caught glimpses of hand-carved wooden furniture, crystal chandeliers, elaborately-woven carpeting, and expensive paintings and sculptures. Even someone like Zaeed, who never had much of an eye for luxury, could tell that his old business partner was rolling in credits.

Walking beside them, Dugas saw the looks in their eyes and chortled. "Quite a sight, isn't it? A far cry from the dingy, pyjak-infested hovels we used to call home."

"Goddamn right," Zaeed remarked. "Quite an eye for decorating you have, Dugas," his eye caught one of the paintings and he cocked an eyebrow. "Wait a second. That's... that's a human painting, isn't it?"

"A good eye," Dugas said, walking up to the painting of a woman dressed in gold. "Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I, by Gustav Klimt. Over 250 years old, and one of the most expensive human paintings ever created." He turned to Zaeed and bared his teeth in a frightful krogan smile. "What I had to go through to hang this painting in my home would take hours for me to tell, so let's just say that it was paid for with more than just credits."

Zaeed gave Dugas a quizzical look. "Surprised to see you with a piece of human art in your home. What with the way you used to talk about humans back when we were scrapping together. Guess you decided we weren't so bad after all, then?"

"Oh, no, that hasn't changed at all," Dugas responded. "Actually, Zaeed, you're the first human to have set foot in my home that wasn't either a lovely young thing like your companion over there," he ran one of his thick fingers up Rooker's arm, as she fought the urge to flinch and forced a brainless giggle instead, "or who didn't... well, leave in a much sorrier state than how they entered. I still don't trust your kind, even if the rest of the galaxy is ready to drop to their knees and worship you like fucking gods."

He gestured back to the painting. "This is one of 55 pieces of human art I have in my home. And I have them here just for the satisfaction of knowing that no human will ever get the chance to see them in person, ever again." Glancing back at Zaeed, he shrugged slightly and added, "Well, except for you of course. So enjoy it while you can."

"So, you're telling me you buy human art... out of spite?" Zaeed asked.

Dugas laughed, a hint of cruelty in the sound. "Can you think of a better reason to own such ugly pieces of garbage? When I walk by this painting, I don't think about the aesthetics of it. I think about all the humans who fought so hard and spent so much to possess it, only for it to end up in the hands of a former krogan mercenary who personally slaughtered hundreds of their kind in their life. And who will make damn sure that none of their kind will ever lay a finger on it again."

"Well, for now," Zaeed said. "But after your death, they..."

"My death won't be coming for many, many centuries, Zaeed," Dugas said, giving the human mercenary an odd look. "A bit morbid of you, old friend. We've only been reunited for a few minutes now, and already you're considering my death. Something I should know about?"

Zaeed shook his head. "No, not at all. Just saying that I don't see any little krogan blighters running around your mansion anywhere. So no kids, and you never talked about any relatives that you cared about enough to put in your will. Once you're gone, these paintings will..."

"Will be destroyed," Dugas finished. "Those are strict instructions I have left with my staff should I meet with an unexpected death. And just in case any of them get any funny ideas about walking off with my art," Dugas raised his voice, while glancing behind him at the two guards trailing behind him and his human guests, "let's just say that contingencies are in place."

"You never were one to leave things to chance, Dugas," Zaeed said, stealing one last glance at the rare painting before following the krogan further down the hall.

Another wry chuckle from Dugas. "No... no, I never was. And unlike a lot of things since the last time we spoke, Zaeed, that has not changed."

Walking over to a set of ivory-colored double doors, Dugas gestured to the two guards behind them, who quickly grabbed onto the bronze doorknobs and swung the doors outward to allow their employer and his guest to step inside. The room they walked into was just as gorgeous and well-furnished as the hallway they had walked through, with more art and draperies handing from the walls, a roaring – albeit fake – fireplace on one wall, and plush velvet lounge chairs and couches.

"Right this way," Dugas instructed them, directing Zaeed and Rooker to one of the couches. As the two humans sat down, each of them quickly scanned the room. Despite their radically-different backgrounds, both of them were soldiers to the core. So each of them were quick to spot the other guards that were already in the room as they entered: four, two turians, a batarian, and a krogan, each well-armed and with all their attention focused on the visitors. Zaeed and Rooker exchanged a glance, each of them thinking the same thing: if things go bad, we're dead.

But still, they had a mission to accomplish. As Dugas sat down in a large chair across from them, he motioned to one of the guards who had entered from the hallway, the turian rushing over to a small bar nearby and grabbing a bottle of expensive-looking liquor. "Apologies for not having any ryncol on hand," Dugas said, as his employee opened the bottle and began pouring out glasses. "Afraid the taste of it brings back too many bad memories. Perhaps a little brandy instead?"

"Sounds bloody wonderful," Zaeed said, trying his best to keep up his casual demeanor even after realizing he was surrounded by men with guns. As he took the glass full of liquor from the turian, a wry smile came to his face. "And yeah, suppose the last time we drank ryncol wasn't exactly one of our high points. Was more to dull the pain of all the injuries than to get rat arsed."

"Yes, I believe that was the last job we worked together," Dugas said, tossing back the glass in his hand and swallowing it in one gulp, before holding it out for his bodyguard to refill. "After that, figured it was probably a better idea for the two of us to strike out on our own." He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Nothing personal, you understand. Just good business, is all."

Zaeed nodded, sipping on his drink and wincing at the strength. "Nah, it made sense. Too much heat on both of us at the time, anyway. Best that we go our separate ways and all that. Never held it against you, mate. And besides, looks like both of us turned out alright in the end."

"That we did," Dugas said. "Me in a mansion worth more credits than a fleet of Alliance dreadnoughts, and you kicking back at some tropical resort, tanning that human skin of yours and enjoying the company of this lovely young human." Dugas turned his attention to Rooker, not trying to hide the leer in his eyes as he gave her body a thorough up-and-down glare. "Where did the two of you meet, anyway?"

"Oh, it was on Illium, actually," Rooker quickly answered. "I spotted Zaeed at the bar and I just couldn't believe it was him! The man who had risked his life to help defend Earth during the war, right there in front of me! We spent all night talking, him telling me stories about all the exciting things he had done. And after that..." with a sigh, she leaned against Zaeed and wrapped her arms around his. "... well, what can I say? It just felt like it was meant to be."

"Quite a story," Dugas said, swallowing down his second drink and holding out his glass for a third. "Which makes me even more surprised that you would be paying me a visit here. From what I've heard, the asari have rebuilt Illium quite nicely since the war. Can't conceive of why you'd ever set foot off there and end up... how was it you put it, Zaeed?" Dugas arched his brow. "In my 'neighborhood'?"

"Well, we were... uh..." Zaeed started to say.

"It's my fault, really," Rooker quickly jumped in. "I was on Illium for work. Fitness modelling, maybe you've seen my picture in some magazines? Well, anyway, I had a client that wanted some beach shots there, so I only had a few days there before I had to head off to my next gig. There's a big shoot going on at Illryia tomorrow, and when I told Zaeed that I'd have to be leaving, he insisted on personally flying me down here himself." Leaning toward Zaeed, Rooker gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Isn't he just wonderful? Was he this much of a sweetie pie back when you two were friends?"

"No, can't say that he was," Dugas said with a chuckle. "I suppose the years have worn down the rough edges a bit. So, a photo shoot in Illryia? Who was it you were working for, again? I have quite a few clients in the capital. Perhaps I'm familiar with the man."

"Oh, I doubt you would," Rooker casually remarked. "Sounds like you don't like working with humans, and the people who hired me are from Rosenkov Materials. Supposed to be modeling their new line of Viper sniper rifles for some promotional images they..." Rooker let out a gasp, a sheepish expression on her face. "Oh, crud, that's supposed to be a secret. Please don't tell anyone, Mr. Dugas. If they find out I've been talking about their new line before the trade show, I'll never get a job with them again!"

Zaeed glanced over at Rooker, trying to hide the surprise on his face. He hadn't thought to work out these details with Rooker beforehand, and yet Rooker was weaving a story together without a hint of hesitation. He had only Jacob's word that the woman was a good soldier, but from what Zaeed had seen so far, she was an even better liar.

"Not to worry, my dear. Your secret is safe with me," Dugas responded. "So, this is what you're up to now, Zaeed? Chauffeuring models around? Quite a change of pace, considering some of your past clients."

"Goddamn right. And I damn sure won't be going back to those types of clients any time soon," Zaeed said, throwing his arm around Rooker's shoulders. "They weren't nearly as pleasant to look at, after all."

Swallowing down his third full glass of brandy, Dugas set the empty glass down on a mahogany side table. When he spoke again, the friendliness in his voice had drained away. "Alright, Zaeed. Think it's time we put an end to this. How about we talk about what you're really doing here."

Zaeed gave Dugas a confused look. "What I'm really... but the bird just said it, mate. Brought her along to meet her client and..."

"Quiet!" Dugas suddenly bellowed, the unexpected force of his voice causing Zaeed to immediately clam up. "Enough of your lies, Zaeed. I know what's going on here. You must be an idiot to think I wouldn't know why you're here. And who you're really working for."

Zaeed and Rooker watched as the guards around the edges of the room shouldered their weapons, all of them aiming their sights directly at Zaeed.

"Zaeed, what's... what's going on?" Rooker said, still managing to keep her cover despite the suddenly tense situation. "Your friend is scaring me, Zaeed. Tell him to stop."

"Not to worry, my dear," Dugas said, and despite the friendliness of his words there was still an undercurrent of anger. "This will all be over soon. Once your wrinkled boyfriend here tells me the truth."

"Dugas, mate, I don't know what else to say," Zaeed said, trying his best to sound calm despite the lousy turn this mission had taken. "It's just a friendly visit, that's..."

"What is it we were just talking about, mate?" Dugas asked, the last word stated harshly. "Past clients, I think it was. You and I both took a lot of jobs after we parted ways. With a lot of different clients, both legal and... less-than-legal. But there's one in particular that I'd like to discuss. One of your more recent associates. You do know who I'm talking about, don't you? A particularly human organization."

Zaeed shot a quick glance at Rooker. Does this bastard know I'm here with the Alliance? he thought to himself.

"Such an amazing coincidence, isn't it? That you would come knocking at my door just as they made their grand rise from the dead," Dugas snarled. "I know what this is. I know exactly what this is. Those bastards would love to take someone like me out. An alien like me who rose up from nothing to become one of the richest krogan in the galaxy. But they know they can't get to me. No, not unless they use the one human I ever trusted. A human who had worked with them in the past, and is now working for them again. Isn't that right, old friend?"

Zaeed finally followed Dugas's train of logic. "Cerberus," he muttered. "You think I'm still working for Cerberus."

"Don't deny it. It makes too much damn sense," Dugas snapped. "This new Cerberus hired you to take me out. To come in here and stab me in the back. Just admit it, Zaeed. Admit it now and maybe I'll make your death quick."

Dugas gestured to his men, who began advancing towards the couch where Zaeed and Rooker sat, all of them with their sights directly on Zaeed's head.
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Slaves of Cerberus