The Acheron rose into the sky, past the cloud layer, then out of the atmosphere. It banked, turned and moved into a geosynchronous orbit over the slaver base. Inside, Cantenelli relaxed on the command platform.<span style="color: blue">Maintain orbit. Falkris you have the comm. Mickey, ETA on teams arrival on objective?</span><br/><br/><span style="color: teal">34 minutes.</span><br/><br/>Cantenelli nodded.<span style="color: blue">I'll be on the crew deck.</span>He nodded to Falkris and stepped down, heading to the elevator. The Turian stood from the console along the gangway and saluted the captain with his unslung arm before assuming the command position.<br/><br/>The elevator closed and Cantenelli visibly slumped. He hand't slept in some time and the guise of unshakable leader could only be maintained so long. He looked at the watch on his omni-tool that designated the time of day at his home city on Earth. 0600. He stretch his neck and headed for the shower. It was the only opportunity to really relax he had in these moments. When the crew wasn't on station he couldn't allow himself to mingle. He had to wait until they departed or were all on task. The calm before the storm was his only chance.<br/><br/>He showered quickly and toweled off, observing a military cleanliness in his dress code even as he rolled up the sleeves. Suddenly the lights in the ship went red and a warning klaxon sounded. He knew that sound.<i>Proximity warning.</i>He dashed from the lockers and rode the elevator to the command. Falkris was calling orders to cut engines and reduce thermal power. He spotted Cantenelli and stepped down.<br/><br/><span style="color: red">4 contacts making for us, Captain.</span>Cantenelli gave him a  long look and stepped onto the command platform, looking down at the large holographic display of the star system. 4 pings were moving rapdily from the edge of the system.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">Designation?</span><br/><br/><span style="color: red">Unknown. We only just picked them up as they dropped out of FTL.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: blue">Understood. Mickey, cut all communications. Radio silence. Get scanners running, but play it smart. We don't need to be bouncing any radiation off their sensors. Whats the surface activity down there?</span><br/><br/><span style="color: teal">Bad. About ten minutes after we started orbit the whole place lit up. I'm getting vehicle signatures, active exterior life signs. Looks like they mobilized.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: blue">The team?</span><br/><br/><span style="color: teal">Looks like infiltration successful. I'm betting we showed up in the middle of something. Captain, we're still in radio range with Sorv and Darion, shouldn't we -</span><br/><br/><span style="color: blue">Negative!</span>Cantenelli cut him off.<span style="color: blue">We can't give these bastards any chance to spot us. We wait, let it play.</span>He ordered sternly, gripping the railing before him. It wasn't the situation he wanted, but he had to trust the team on the ground. What choice did they have?<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Sorv listened to Darion's plan then gave a short nod.<span style="color: darkorange">Roger.</span>He patted the combat knife at his waist.<span style="color: darkorange">Wouldn't be much of a marine if I didn't.</span><br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>The Batarian walked the breathing apparatus over to Shira'Va and began putting it on her as she was oiled up. The human with his hands all over her was grinning in enjoyment, taking liberties with her breasts and squeezing her ass.<span style="color: darkgreen">God damn, if I had the credits, I'd buy this bitch.</span>He laughed. The Batarian wasn't amused and once the breather was in the place he headed for the shelves of clothing then paused as he passed Kala. He muttered to himself then uncuffed her, certain she wasn't going to cause any trouble.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkgreen">I wonder what you feel like on the inside...</span>He grinned and pushed a finger up between her legs into her cunt. Shira's face turned from bridled anger into embarrassment and fury immediately. But the slaver reached around, still holding the pistol in his other hand, and grabbed her around the waste with his arm, the cool casing of the weapon pressing into her hip. She clenched her jaw.<br/><br/>The Batarian continued milling about while the other slaver who had grudgingly picked Ashana approached the tray on the western counter with the injector on it. He pushed around a few vials, read their labels then slid open the container under the counter, withdrew a vial and loaded it in the injector, then promptly jabbed it into Ashana's arm.<br/><br/>Ashana closed her eyes. This was it, then. She had quietly debated to herself whether or not to try and jump them before that injection occurred, but it was a high risk. As long as she was able to use biotics they would be on guard. The biotic suppressant that had just been added to her system was a formula she was familiar with, popular among slavers as it was, for making biotics unresponsive, and unpredictable to their user. She opened her eyes and the room swayed, split into two blurring images. The initial effect of the drug was a particular sense of euphoria as it suppressed her nervous system. She had to stomach it until the side-effects wore off in several minutes. She was dizzy and began to sway.<br/><br/>The slaver with her uncuffed her then guided her from behind toward the counter and bent her over it, her breasts pressing against the cold surface. Ashana smiled slightly putting her hands on the counter beside her, the glaze over her eyes a clear sign of her mental state. The slave put his pistol back on his hip and began fumbling with the lower half of his armor behind Ashana.<br/><br/>The other slaver noticed what he was doing as he pulled his hard cock free.<span style="color: darkgreen">What the fuck are you doing?</span>He took his hands off Shira, withdrawing his finger from her, and stood up. The Batarian looked. Shook his head and grabbed some transparent fabric and walked back over toward Shira.<span style="color: darkgreen">Yo asshole, we're selling her in like 10 minutes!</span><br/><br/><span style="color: darkorange">Hey, fuck you. You got the Quarian, so just shut your mouth. I'm having some of this one before we cart her off! And don't fucking worry yourself over it, I'm not gunna leave a mess.</span>He said, still angry that a gun was pulled on him over the Quarian.<br/><br/>The Batarian came to Shira, who looked at Kala helpless and ashamed at what was about to happen.<span style="color: darkred">Forget him. He screws her up, let him get shot for it.</span>He handed some of the clothing for Shira to the other slaver who had lost his interest in handling the Quarian, the foul mood of the other slaver ruining the experience.<br/><br/>He began helping to dress her, tieing a belt around her waste with the transparent white fabric hanging down over Shira's sex, but leaving her legs exposed.<br/><br/>The slave stood behind Ashana and gripped his cock, running its head over her cunt while he grabbed a handful of her ass and spread it. He raised his cock up to her ass and pushed its head in, then grabbed her hips and pushed himself deeper until his balls bumped against her sex. He grunted as he began pumping in short thrusts, leaning over her and grabbing her shoulder to pull her down on his cock in time with his thrusts.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkgreen">Fuck man...</span>The slave with Shira muttered.<br/><br/>The injector lay on the counter, now empty, the vials laying beside. Among them were several strong anesthetics, anti-virals, and tranquilizers. The Batarian stood with his back to Kala, the Human's presence going almost completely ignored while the two dealt with Shira and the other fucked Ashana. On the Batarian's back was a Scimitar Shotgun, at his hip a Carnifex pistol. Two slavers passed the window looking out at the airlock to facility C, neither of them bothered looking in. They were talking, but their voices were inaudible, suggesting that perhaps the room was sound resistant.<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Desmond eye'd the two before him, waiting impatiently. Firas looked at Milenya not sure what to do.<span style="color: red">Come on. 50,000. Stop wasting my time here.</span>He tapped his shin with the barrel of his Mattock.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">It would be. But we need 60. That Asari is sexually trained, and getting her was difficult. 60,000.</span>Firas said slowly, looking from Milenya to Desmond. He had half a mind to jump the man right here, but the sound of the barracks door opening and closing behind him, mixed with the burst of sound within while it was open stayed him.<br/><br/>Desmond's eye twinged.<span style="color: red">I told you I don't have time for this shit right now.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: blue">Its 20% more. You can make double off them. In fact it sounds like your going to be making that profit damn soon. So there's no risk in supplies for maintaining them. 60,000.</span>Firas growled back.<br/><br/>Desmond looked at his armor, his eyes darting to the Revenant's stock peeking out over the Turian's shoulder. Firas tensed as the human sized him up like he was debating whether shooting them was a fair risk. The sound of the Barracks door opening made his eyes dart toward it, then smirked slightly, looking at Milenya.<span style="color: red">Tell, you what... let me fuck this one and I'll make it 70,000.</span><br/><br/>Behind Desmond, the 4 indicators on the star system map neared the planet.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>