Ashana vainly attempted to adjust the suit around her hips, but its tight fit and stiff frame made it impossible to adjust. She hadn't expected to find herself in another EVA suit so soon, but at least this time it was an enemy she knew. She looked at the others in the elevator - at Kala in her EVA suit, Shira in her 'soft-suit' variant; And at the others, Sorv, Firas, Darion, and Milenya with their armor and weapons. Compared to them the three slave girls should be feeling appropriately naked, as they were beneath the suits they wore. It was at least appropriate that the EVA suits were scuffed and scrapped now after the battle on Zeona, giving them a convincingly worn look which would suit their cover.<br/><br/>The Asari looked at Kala for a moment, saw the fear in her, the regret. She didn't want to be with them, how could she? And now all her world looked to be shrinking, to be crushing down on her as she plunged into the abyss.<span style="color: darkorchid">Kala.</span>Ashana said coolly, unsympathetic.<span style="color: darkorchid">You're afraid. Its good to be afraid. They have to believe you are a prisoner, taken against your will. Inside that facility are men that would rape you, parade you around like an animal for everyone to see, and demean you for their own amusement. But also know that you are in no danger. They are no more capable of harming you than they are of harming me.</span><br/><br/>The elevator chimed as it reached the cargo bay and the doors opened. Ashana stepped out with the rest of the team into the bay where the crew had been busy clearing crates and moving the salvage from Zeona. Before them was the crawler, unloaded and ready for departure. Ashana jumped in the back, helping up the others as they piled on. Milenya was set to drive, while Firas stood guard over their 'captives' with his Revenant in the back. Darion and Sorv were last in, ready to disembark the vehicle once they reached their drop zone.<br/><br/><span style="color: red">Acheron, we're set to go.</span>Firas told them over the comms.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">Affirmative fire team. All crew clear the bay. Repeat, all crew clear the bay. ETA 90 seconds.</span>Cantenelli responded over the comms in the bay, his voice echoing loudly. The various crew members departed for the elevator and stair access.<br/><br/>Ashana could feel the shift in gravity, the subtle change in momentum as the ship descended. She put the helmet on and let it get seated and connected then took several breaths, and closed her eyes. It was time to focus, to erase all thoughts beyond her goal, her target. She rehearsed all the ways she could kill someone, played them all out in her mind, dancing between memories that made her heart quicken. She wasn't Ashana the dancer anymore, flaunting for the thrill. She wasn't Ashana the mercenary anymore, fighting for credits. She was the animal that lurked deep inside her, the caged predator fixated on the hunt... and it was time to let it off the chain.<br/><br/>Red warning lights began strobing in the bay, in preparation of the doors opening. A few moments later the bay door opened. Beyond was a scene that moved so quickly that Ashana briefly felt a twisting nausea in her stomach. The sky rapid flashed by outside, and then suddenly the view was overtaken by green hills and jagged mountains in the distance. The movement slowed with the Acheron's rapidly decreasing descent speed until they were at last parallel to the ground. The bay door lifted slightly as the ship lowered to the earth.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">Fire team you are clear for departure.</span>Mickey informed them.<br/><br/>The crawler started moving, accelerating down the ramp and onto the green earth. As soon as they were clear of the bay, the Acheron's engines flared and it took off, flying over them and casting a giant shadow across their path before ascending and becoming nothing more than a tiny black dot before fading from view altogether.<br/><br/>Ashana looked around at the world and couldn't help but feel suddenly small and alone. The world was primordial, a planet teeming with the smallest lifeforms. Every inch seemed blanketed in a green moss like substance that squashed beneath the tires of the crawler like a goo, its form not hardened against objects of such a scale. Even green as the terrain was, the whole planet seemed blanketed in an amber light that shone through the mist like cloud cover from the sun which hovered on the horizon, casting long shadows across the valleys. Falling across the sky like an star shower in perpetual slow motion were clusters of matter which caught the sunlight and blazed orange and red like fire. One of the particles landed on Ashana's chest plate and she tried to gingerly lift it, but it disintegrated like dust which clung to her fingers. She rubbed them together and looked at the strange, tiny fleshy particles that glistened moistly.<br/><br/>Pre-garden, proto-organic. The words had meant nothing to her when they were spoken by the Salarian doctor, but now, in this place, she knew now the gravity that the Salarian had imparted with them. They were aliens here, intruders. The whole world was alive, but on the smallest scale. Even as it was alive, to Ashana it seemed barren. Green, but nothing else. No trees or plants, no cascading waterfalls or animals. It was a a wasteland of life and unlike anything Ashana had ever seen before in all her days.<br/><br/>The Crawler rumbled along at a quick pace, following the route that they had set. It was 30 minutes before they began at last to come into range of the facility. The valleys and steep peaks gave way to rolling green hills of algae and rock as they passed between two ominous spires. They kept between the hills, keeping below the horizon to avoid being spotted until the crawler slowed and stopped and Darion and Sorv jumped down. They were on their own now, on foot. Firas gave them a nod and they set out again, accelerating.<br/><br/><span style="color: red">Alright...</span>He said, producing the bindings for their three slave girls.<span style="color: red">Show time.</span><br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Sorv jogged up the side of the hill, his boots  slightly slicked by the proto-matter field he ran across. He slowed as he crested the hill, crouching down  then crawling to its peak. He slowly inched his way up until he could see over it at last.<span style="color: darkorange">There we are...</span>Below, in an open space between the hills was the base, just like it had been in the scans. A dark stain of matte gray illuminated by powerful flood lights casting across the vehicle yard and surrounding terrain.<span style="color: darkorange">They always looked bigger in person...</span>Sorv remarked, lifting his rifle and peering down the scope.<br/><br/>They were southwest of the facility by about a quarter mile. Sorv moved his rifle's view across the base, looking at the defenses. He spotted the array on the top of Zone A, as expected.<span style="color: darkorange">What the hell... is goin' on here...?</span>He said, as he panned across the vehicle yard.<br/><br/>One of the Mako's was moving, and at least a half dozen guards were patrolling around, pointing and commenting. Sorv looked across the rooftop of the base, and spotted another half dozen men.<span style="color: darkorange">Something is wrong... they're active, like they're expecting us. That's a lot of firepower... Firas, do you read...?</span>There was no response.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkorange">Damnit... they're already in the comm blanket of the base.</span>He panned over to the south, to the slope that the crawler was supposed to take to the base. He saw the vehicle emerge from behind the hills, its six wheels spinning as it climbed the ascent leading to the base's plateau and came to a stop on the flat ground in front of it. The Mako's turret immediately turned and aimed at the vehicle. It seemed a moment before the rest of the guards reacted. Sorv watched helmets swivel, postures change. There wasn't any rush, no sudden march of boots. They were all just looking on, like they didn't know what to make of the newcomers.<span style="color: darkorange">They weren't expecting us...?</span>he muttered, confused.<span style="color: darkorange">Then why all the guards...?</span><br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Firas stood in the back of the crawler, hands up, Revenant lifted above his head clear to see.<span style="color: red">We want to talk to your boss!</span>He repeated, glancing at the Mako that had parked at the edge of the yard and was aiming at them.<br/><br/>The three guards standing beside it, looking at them exchanged looks. Firas had to assume he was talking to one of them over the comm, as he had no of identifying who was on the channel.<span style="color: darkgreen">Yeah, I heard that part. Why?</span><br/><br/><span style="color: red">I've got slaves to sell!</span><br/><br/><span style="color: darkgreen">And who the fuck says we're going to buy them?</span><br/><br/><span style="color: red">Krant Yollen, freighter pilot! He said he makes off the record delivers here! Says you pay well!</span>Firas lied, betting that the group wouldn't bothering checking the fake name. He just hoped that the Shadow Broker intel they had was accurate.<br/><br/><span style="color: red">Milenya, just in case they don't buy this, get ready to reverse back down that hill and get us the hell out of here.</span>Firas muttered into the team's channel, though the Mako would make any evasion or escape nearly impossible.<br/><br/>The guards exchanged looks. The one in the middle lifted his arms in exasperation.<span style="color: darkgreen">Yeah, sorry... who?</span><br/><br/><span style="color: red">Krant. Yollen. Freighter pilot.</span>Firas said slowly and clearly.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkgreen">Uh... fucking hell... yeah... hang on a second.</span>The channel went quite.<br/><br/>One of the guards on the roof motioned from the three guards looking at the crawler to Firas, hands lifted, looking for input. The guard on the ground waved them off and pointed, as if to indicate that they were to ignore these newcomers. Firas watched, confused. He could only imagine what the conversation in the base was like right now. But more concerning was the presence of guards and the active Mako. Something had changed and recently. They were on alert.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkgreen">How the hell did you get here? We don't see a ship on the scanners.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: red">Good.</span>Firas retorted, trying to play the indignant trader.<span style="color: red">I have slaves. I want to sell them. And I'm tired of standing here. Now are you buyers or do I need to take them to someone who's more interested in trading than asking stupid question?</span><br/><br/>There was a long silence.<span style="color: darkgreen">Yeah, sure. Fine. Come on, and don't take all day. We're on a schedule.</span>The guard responded, waving at them.<br/><br/>The Crawler started again and Firas muttered,<span style="color: red">I don't like this... they're treating us like an inconvenience.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: indigo">"What threat are we when they've got a Mako ready to fire."</span>Shira watched the slowly growing shape of the APC Tank as they drew near.<br/><br/><i>This is a show... they're expecting someone... want to make an impression</i>Ashana thought, observing the tank then the guards on the roof.<br/><br/><span style="color: red">Alright... that's enough. You're slaves now, remember? </span><br/><br/>The crawler neared the edge of the vehicle yard paddock and jostled as it rolled up onto the solid surface. The tries left an ooze track on the grey surface from the matter covered hills they had crossed. The three guards waved them all down off the crawler.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkgreen">Hey, you. Park this thing over there, off the pad.</span>He pointed at a row of enclosed transports at the north edge of the pad, next to Zone C. He stepped back as the crawler began moving, but followed it to intercept Milenya as she disembarked.<br/><br/>The two remaining guards looked at Firas and his cargo. The Turian cradled his Revenant then walked around the girls.<span style="color: red">Asari, Human, Quarian.</span>He said, tapping Ashana on the butt with the barrel of his rifle.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkgreen">Uh huh...</span>The guard said looking at the three.<span style="color: darkgreen">Inside, let's go.</span>He ordered and led the way toward the door to Building C. As they crossed the yard Ashana looked left at Building A. Milenya had been spot on. It was a large doored loading bay. Several more armed men were milling about, moving things, clearing space.<br/><br/><span style="color: red">Move!</span>Firas yelled and kicked her in the back when she lingered.<span style="color: red">He says move, you move whore!</span><br/><br/>Ashana fell down, unable to catch herself with her hounds bound behind her back. She struggled up to her knees then was forcibly yanked to her feet by Firas, then shoved forward.<i>Good boy,</i>Ashana thought.<br/><br/>The Guard following the crawler stopped and waited for Milenya to climb down once it was parked, then motioned for her to follow the others into the building, waiting for her to walk in front of him. Ashana waited, as she walked, expecting the inevitable play. The guards would stop before allowing them to enter, demand to confiscate their weapons while in their base. If Firas played along and handed them over, then they would string him along with the plan of killing or enslaving him and Milenya, taking the three girls at no cost. If Firas refused, the deal would continue between business men. Standard slave trader etiquette.<br/><br/>The Guard opened the outer airlock and motioned for them to enter without saying a word. Ashana followed suit with the others and felt her heartbeat quicken.<i>This is wrong,</i>she thought. They skipped a step, were acting more unusual than they should be... she rapidly reassessed, looking between the guards. Casual, not aggressive, not fidgety. They weren't readying an ambush. Their tone earlier suggested surprise, annoyance, confusion. They were quick to get them inside. Ashana smirked in her helmet.<i>Tisk tisk... are we interrupting something?</i><br/><br/>The air normalized and the guards took off their helmets. Two Humans, one Batarian.<i>Ugly bastards too</i>, Ashana thought as she looked at them.<span style="color: darkgreen">Alright, inside...</span>The one guard, Human whose voice was the same as the one over the comms nodded at them to enter as the second airlock opened.<br/><br/>Inside was a lobby that formed an L shape, with a short run to their right, ending in a door. A blast door was recessed in the left wall was certainly the way to the corridor that linked this building to building B. A third door was further down the room on the right and hand a long window looking into whatever was beyond. Their position made it impossible to tell, however. The decor suggested a place for relaxation. There was a long couch for seating, a vid display, table with empty glasses and bottles that had been neglected and knocked over. There were two crates in the corner, lids open and emptied. Laying on the couch was a Human woman, her hair a mess of blond. He wrists were bound to the arm rest, and she was completely naked. One of her legs hung off the end of the couch, showing her mess of golden brown pubic hair encircling her sex. She rolled her head slightly, slowly, lolling in an induced state of intense lethargy. She was drugged, Ashana easily concluded, and from the look of the reddened and irritated skin of her inner thighs, used.<br/><br/>Four other men stood in the room, aside from them and three guards from outside. All three were in full combat gear, heavily armored and packing serious firepower. Ashana noted the Rocket Launcher on one of their backs. The man in the middle of them was pointing and sternly giving orders. Ashana recognized the scrapnel scars, short crew cut, and rough complextion immediately. That was him. That was Desmond Tyler.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkred">"And I don't give a shit who tells you to fucking move them, don't fucking move them!"</span>He said, angry in a voice that gave Ashana the impression that he had been punched in the throat at some point and never fully recovered.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkgreen">Boss. These are them.</span>The guard said, motioning.<br/><br/>Demond looked at them for a moment, annoyed.<span style="color: darkred">"Yeah."</span>Was his only acknowledgement.<span style="color: darkred">"Best up front. They want a demo, you give em one of the others. They don't touch the sweet merchandise without buying them. Now fucking move it."</span>The other man, a Turian, gave a nod and headed for the blast door to Building B.<br/><br/>Desmond looked at Firas, who had removed his helmet and was watching the man. The gruff Human looked the Turian up and down, assessing him. He stared at Firas with a slight twinge in his eyebrow.<span style="color: darkred">"I understand you want to sell something?"</span><br/><br/><span style="color: red">Yeah. Them.</span>Firas leaned his head toward Ashana, Shira, and Kala.<br/><br/>Demond walked forward to within a half dozen paces, and put his hands on his hips. He glanced at Ashana and Kala, who, still in full suits looked very similar. He lingered on Shira for a moment. The Quarian shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.<span style="color: darkred">"Hm."</span>He turned back and walked away a few steps, then turned back around and ran his armored hand across his short stubble hair.<span style="color: darkred">"You picked a hell of a time."</span>He muttered.<span style="color: darkred">"Any other day I'da told you to go fuck yourself... but not today."</span><br/><br/><span style="color: darkred">"Strip 'em down."</span>He nodded at the guards.<br/><br/>Ashana closed her eyes and mentally prepared herself. The guards weren't particularity gentle as their pulled the helmets off Kala and Ashana.<span style="color: darkgreen">Quarian too?</span>one asked.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkred">Yeah.</span><br/><br/>The guard yanked back the hood of Shira's suit, exposing the mess of cords and tubes running into the back of her helmet. Ashana grimaced and sneered indignantly as she felt the guard's hands on her suit, opening the seals and opening it, then forcibly pulling open the chest plate. Her breasts fell free of their restraints. Demond nodded with a smirk of approval. The guards did the same to Kala, exposing her to the room.<br/><br/>Desmond walked up the Ashana. She refused to make eye contact with him, looking down and past him, away. She was just a woman ashamed, and angry now. The Human grabbed her breast and squeezed, lifting and molesting her. She could feel the rubberized palms of his gloves pulling at her skin while his fingers probed.<span style="color: darkred">"Even better. They're real."</span>He grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him. She again refused to make eye contact, making small whimpers of protest while her lip trembled under the treatment.<span style="color: darkred">"Pretty too... good, good..."</span>He looked at Firas.<span style="color: darkred">"Biotic?"</span>The Turian nodded.<br/><br/>Demond pointed at the guard behind Ashana and moved his finger down, indicated that he was to finish undressing her. Ashana felt the barrel of a pistol against the back of her head. A sure sign these men were experienced. She felt the cuffs around her wrists be removed, and she dropped her hands to her sides as the suit was yanked down her shoulders and waist.<br/><br/>Desmond's assessment of Kala was much briefer. He looked at her, grabbing her chin and moving her head around like was inspecting some piece of livestock for flaws. He didn't bother to feel up her breasts.<span style="color: darkred">"Biotic?"</span><br/>"<br/><span style="color: red">No.</span>Desmond made the same gesture to her guard, though no gun was pressed against her head.<br/><br/>The slaver moved on to Shira'Va, stopping in front of her, though her suit remained on. The guard was busy unhooking parts of it.<span style="color: darkred">Are you healthy?</span>He asked, looking into her visor.<br/><br/><span style="color: indigo">"Shove a grenade up your ass you Bosh'tet cock sucking whore."</span>Shira hissed at him. The guards all laughed and Desmond chuckled, amused.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkred">"Cute."</span>He reached up and fiddled for a moment before removing her visor. He casually tossed it to the ground. He nodded for the Guard to pull off her helmet.<br/><br/>Shira'Va's brilliant, luminescent eyes glared at the slaver. Her skin tone, an offset purplish grey hue, was marked by the symmetrical lines of raised dark toned skin that formed small, simple patterns. Two curved lines ran down her forehead to the inner edges of her brow. While two move ran along the back edge of her jaw and ended with widened points like flower buds, like those that Kala had seen on her hands when they had been drinking. The helmet came off and her straight black hair flopped free in a short, angled bob cut that went down to just below her jaw line. Her features were fierce, angled and attractive, giving her an exotic look.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkred">"The rest of it, off."</span>He ordered.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkgreen">She gunna get sick?</span><br/><br/><span style="color: darkred">Not my problem. Off.</span><br/><br/>Ashana felt the suit being tugged down her hips and ass then peeled down her legs, leaving her feet in the boots. The moment the suit was down, her arms were grabbed and roughly re-cuffed. Kala too was soon bare naked in the room, and re-cuffed. Desmond gave them a glance then returned his attention to Shira'Va.<br/><br/>As they fiddled with the suit, the collar attachment that had been added became clear. Desmond cocked his head a little and frowned.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkred">"What are we, barbarians? Get rid of this shit."</span>He ordered, and the guards went about removing the collar and discarding it.<br/><br/>Shira sneered, and snarled angrily as she felt their hands beginning to undo the seals of the torso. She tried to fight, but rough, strong hands restrained her. Desmond watched, growing somewhat annoyed by her continued resistance. The chest of the armor opened, baring her breasts to the open air. There was a natural discoloration around her breasts, making them ever so slightly lighter than the surrounding skin. The natural decorative lines of raised skin, like on her hands and face, continued down her neck and across her torso, their flowing forms accentuating her natural curves, running along the sides of her breasts, which were pleasantly full and around. Her nipples stiffened immediately in the cold air, her skin unaccustomed to being bombarded by atmosphere.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkred">"Good..."</span>the slaver said, looking down at her. He reached out and cupped her breasts, feeling them.<span style="color: darkred">"Very good. Endowed, healthy discoloration... Hen'al marks are pleasing and symmetrical."</span><br/><br/>Shira squirmed under his grip, and as he removed his hand she lunged futilely in anger. The guards kept her restrained, held her back. She began spitting insults and curses at Desmond, but her voice quieted as the man lifted the pistol from his hip and pushed it against her forehead.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkred">"I'm going to be very clear with you. At the moment your valuable to me because your pretty, healthy, and someone will pay a great deal of credits for you. What they will not pay for is a Quarian bitch that attacks at every provocation."</span>He clicked the side of the Predator pistol, and the gun began an increasingly high pitched whine as it charged a Phasic round.<span style="color: darkred">"A Quarian like that is not valuable. A valuable Quarian is treated well because she's valuble. A not valuable Quarian upsets my men because they have to scrape her brains off the side of a wall!"</span>He yelled, pushing the gun hard against her forehead. Firas looked from Desmond to Shira'Va.<br/><br/>The slaver gave her a long look and raised eyebrow, an expression that asked whether or not she had gotten the message. Shira fought to suppress and sneer and clamped her lips shut then nodded. Desmond nodded for the guards to continue, and lowered the gun to his side, but did not holster it.<br/><br/>Her arm bindings were removed and Shira's arms fell to her sides, and for a moment her fingers curled in anger, but she relaxed and didn't fight as the rest of her suit continued to be removed, displaying more of her skin, down her wide set hips and ass, then down her legs until she too, like Kala and Ashana was stark naked and her bindings secured once again.<br/><br/>Desmond began to stalk around her, looking her up and down. When he crossed around behind her, she muttered, trying to hold back her anger.<span style="color: indigo">I need my suit. I'll die.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: darkred">"You'll live."</span>He said, pausing behind her and grabbing her ass, squeezing and spreading it. Shira's jaw clenched and she stared straight ahead, her anger turning to utter shame. Desmond gave her ass a solid pat in satisfaction.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkred">"Hm. Well, you're not worth as much... bit stocky."</span>He stood behind Kala likewise fondling her ass, then reaching down and running his hand up her inner thigh from behind and running his fingers across her vagina.<span style="color: darkred">"Good cunt, though."</span><br/><br/>He walked around behind Ashana.<span style="color: darkred">"Very good..."</span>He said, holstering his gun and placing his hands on her hips, running them up her waist.<span style="color: darkred">"You have taken care of yourself. That's good for me. Good business. If it weren't for that Quarian you'd be the most valuable thing here. Hell, I'd pay to fuck you... shame we'll only be spending a few minutes together."</span>Reached his hand around her and spread her labia with his two fingers.<br/><br/><span style="color: darkred">"Yeah." </span>Desmond said, satisfied, stepping out from behind them and looking at Milenya and Firas.<span style="color: darkred">"They're good quality. I'll deal."</span><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>