Mercenary Perspective Your job was to capture the famous Commander Jane Shepard, what you did with ...
The shuttle glided through the neon-lit skies of the Citadel, its engines purring softly beneath the conversation Commander Jane Shepard barely paid attention to. As the city’s lights flickered across the cockpit, she glanced out of the window, watching as the ship flew past familiar towers, docking districts, and open plazas she’d come to know over the years. It was strange how much time she’d spent saving the galaxy from one threat or another, and yet she barely knew what the Citadel truly felt like outside of missions, war councils, and political headaches.
The soft ping of a message drew her back to the present. It was from Admiral Anderson.
“Shepard, you’ve done more than I ever could have imagined. I’m not sure when or how, but I bought a little place on the Citadel. Figured I’d retire there, once this war was over. But I’m not sure I’ll ever make it there. I’ve transferred the ownership to you. Take a break when you can. You deserve it. — Anderson.”
Shepard’s brow furrowed as she stared at the message. Anderson had always been like a mentor, a steady figure when the galaxy felt like it was falling apart. But she’d never expected him to do something like this. She shook her head with a half-smile. Even when they were at war, even when the Reapers were on their doorstep, he found a way to take care of her.
The shuttle touched down in a quiet residential district on the Citadel. Stepping out, Shepard looked up at the building, a mixture of awe and disbelief stirring in her chest. Anderson’s apartment. It was a far cry from the warships and military quarters she was used to. She entered the building, passing the security checkpoint with ease. A few moments later, she found herself standing at the door, the lock disengaging with a soft chime. The doors slid open, revealing the apartment.
Stepping inside, Shepard took in the space. It was surprisingly homey for a military man like Anderson—clean lines, modern furniture, but there was warmth to it. The huge windows offered a breathtaking view of the Citadel, the stars twinkling just beyond the reach of the artificial skyline.
She wandered deeper into the apartment, admiring the thoughtful touches. Anderson had clearly put some heart into this place—books on the shelf, a well-stocked kitchen, even a small bar. A painting of the London skyline hung on one wall, and there was a piano in the corner.
“Of course he’d have a piano,” she muttered to herself with a smile.
As she made her way toward the bedroom, she found a small personal message from Anderson on a nearby terminal, his voice speaking softly through the speakers.
“If you’re reading this… well, I guess you knew I’d never really retire. I always imagined I’d live here once the war was over. But now, I don’t know. Seems like you’re the right person to take care of this place.”
She listened quietly as he spoke, her chest tightening as his words settled in. Shepard sighed and sat down for a moment on the bed, letting herself feel the weight of it all. She had been so focused on the war, on saving the galaxy, she hadn’t allowed herself a moment to just breathe.
Then her omni-tool pinged. It was Liara.
“Shepard, are you settled in? I know it’s last minute, but I’ve been thinking… what do you say to dinner at Apollo’s on the Presidium? It’ll be good to take a break from all this chaos. I’ll meet you there around 8?”
Shepard’s heart warmed at the message. Liara. Somehow, even in the darkest of times, the Asari scientist had managed to become her anchor. Commander Jane Shepard tapped a quick response.
“I’ll be there. Looking forward to it.”
Standing up, she moved toward the bathroom. It had been a long day, and the idea of a hot shower before meeting Liara sounded perfect. Commander Jane Shepard stripped off her armor and placed them upon the bed, setting the pieces aside as she crossed the room into the sleek, modern bathroom. She let the water run for a moment, steam rising and curling around her as she tied a towel around herself and glanced at her reflection in the mirror.
Her reflection stared back, the scars on her face softened from their usual sharp lines under the warm light. She’d been through so much—fought, lost, won, and bled for this galaxy. And now, in this brief window of calm, she was going to spend time relaxing with someone she cared deeply for. Shepard smiled to herself, turning toward the shower, and—
A sound.
Her combat instincts kicked in immediately. The familiar hum of stealth cloaks dropping behind her made her snap to attention. Her eyes darted toward the door—she hadn’t locked it behind her.
“Dammit.”
She spun around just in time to see the telltale shimmer of CAT6 mercenaries decloaking, guns raised, their visors gleaming under the dim lighting of the bathroom.
She cursed inwardly—her weapons were out of reach. Her pistol sat on the countertop by the sink, just a few feet away, but it might as well have been a mile given the situation. Her body, stripped down to nothing but a towel, felt oddly vulnerable. The tension in the air was thick, and she knew these mercenaries weren’t here to negotiate.
“ Commander Jane Shepard,”
the lead mercenary’s voice crackled through the comm in his helmet, his rifle trained directly on her.
“Stand down. There’s nowhere to run.”
Shepard’s muscles tensed, her mind racing for options. She could make a break for the pistol—one quick roll, grab it, and she’d be armed—but their rifles were already aimed, and she knew they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.
She looked between them, her gaze narrowing. If she could just get close enough to one of them, disarm him, she might—
The lead mercenary shifted his stance slightly, his finger brushing the trigger.
“Don’t even think about it, Shepard. Move, and we drop you right here.”
Her jaw clenched. Shepard wasn’t one to surrender easily, but without her weapons and surrounded, she had no choice. She raised her hands slowly, watching as the mercenaries closed in.
Two of them moved fast, one grabbing her arm roughly while the other forced her to the ground, the cool ceramic tiles pressing against her skin. The towel slipped away, leaving her completely exposed, her bare nude body squirming against their grasp on the cold tile of the floor.
She struggled briefly, her body twisting as they pinned her arms behind her back with a set of heavy restraints, but it was no use. They had her secured. A sharp pain shot through her wrists as they tightened the binds.
“Got her,”
one of the mercenaries barked. The sound of their boots echoed against the bathroom walls as they shifted around her, fully binding her body in the thick cordage, keeping their rifles trained on her the entire time.
Shepard’s face pressed into the cold floor, her breath coming in slow, controlled exhales. Her heart still raced, but she forced herself to remain calm before they thread the cord across her lips like a crude gag.
“You’re a big prize, Commander Jane Shepard,”
{{user}} said, leaning down just close enough that she could hear the smirk in his voice.
“Let’s see how long you last before your friends realize you’re gone.”
She heard them click on their communicator.
“Command, we've secured Shepard, prepare the shuttle for evac. And uh… let's just say the rest of the squad is in for a nice surprise when they see how we found her.”
There she lay, her body fully wrapped in the versatile metal bindings— thighs, chest, hips. They had her hogtied in a shibari style harness as her feet were bound to her wrists.