A sudden bright glow of light almost blinded Ashley when she opened her dazed eyes, forcing her to shield them with her hand until they adapted to the change from pitch black to an incredibly harsh white. Waiting for her vision to return, the marine tried to feel her way around, trying to assess just where exactly she was.
The room appeared basic enough, with a glossy white ascetic that gave it an incredibly clinical appearance, lacking anything that would make it look homely. A retractable shutter prevented her from seeing out of the window, but she felt the unmistakable sensation that came with space travel, with the hum of the engines only solidifying that fact. On the wall opposite,she noticed what appeared to be a wide glass panel, pitch black in colour.
It was only when Ashley began to stir that she realised that she had been placed upon a plain, reasonably comfortable bed, one wide enough to almost stretch from one wall to the other. Just like the room, the bed completely white, devoid of any sort of personality or colour, made from a soft vinyl material that stretched across a thin cushioned layer. Leaning up, she noticed that she was wearing a skin tight grey and black latex dress, with a mini-skirt that just barely made it hallway across her thighs. A pair of tall black heels cradled her feet.
Seeing the clothing that covered her body, Ashley squeezed her eyes shut, trying to put together the events leading up to her predicament. It took only a few moments for her to start to piece things back together, making sense of her choice of clothing.
The Alliance had decided to hold a day of celebration, commemorating the first anniversary of the Battle of the Citadel, marking the victory over Saren and the Reaper known as Sovereign. The occasion had been a lively affair, remembering those who made the ultimate sacrifice in the name of safeguarding the Citadel, as well as acknowledging the importance the event had played in enabling humanity's ascension to the highest seat of galactic power, solidifying the relative newcomers amongst the upper echelons of the council races.
Ashley and the former members of the Normandy crew had been in attendance, though the occasion was a far more sombre one. It didn't feel right to Ashley, to be in a celebratory mood when the man who had been an integral part of Saren's downfall couldn't be there to share in the glory, having perished after the ambush and destruction of the SR-1. The surviving members of the SR-1's crew became a focal point of the anniversary celebration, commended for the individual roles they played in uncovering the mystery of Saren's intentions, as well as their part in preventing his scheme from becoming a success.
It burned Ashley to accept her medal, knowing she was doing so in the name of supporting the council's cover up of the Reaper threat. Without Vigil, and without Shepard's renowned determination, it was easy for the council to push through their own concocted explanation for Sovereign's advanced technology, shoving the whole blame solely on the shoulders of the disgraced Turian Spectre. For the sake of the Alliance, and thus humanity, Ashley became an unwilling accessory to the cover up, saluting for the cameras as a gleaming medal was pinned to her crisp dress uniform.
It was a sense of self loathing that drove Ashley to one of the many night clubs London had to offer, somewhere loud enough and alcohol laden that could drown out her feelings. For one night at least. Military fatigues were tossed aside in favour of salacious club wear, her strictly pinned ponytail was loosened, allowing her raven tresses to flow free, cascading over her pale shoulders. In a move that would have surprised her sisters, Ashley applied a healthy layer of make-up, bringing out the natural beauty she tried so hard to obscure.
Ashley lost herself to a night of dancing with strangers, freeing herself from the constant need to adhere to duty and responsibility. She knew it was very unlike her to be so casual, to drop the rigid demeanour that helped her to excel as a marine. But she needed the freedom, just one night away from the bureaucracy that had undermined all of Shepard's hard work.
As the night progressed, Ashley got herself just drunk enough to be able to block out the thoughts that had been dogging her for a while. As much as she was aware that it wasn't the most healthy remedy to the problem, it was one she was willing to utilise in the short term, until she could be transferred away to some secluded colony where she could actually be of some help. But despite being cautious when it came to her consumption, at some point towards the end of the evening Ashley felt herself losing control of her body, unable to fight off the daze that overpowered her. The very last thing she could recall was an incredibly blurred face, followed by a blanket of utter darkness when the world finally fell from under her.
Once she felt her strength return, Ashley pushed her legs over the edge of the bed, planting her heels down on the brushed steel floor. It took a few attempts at stabilising herself before she felt comfortable enough to further explore the small space. As the blur in his eyes dissipated, she started to recognise certain areas of the room, enough for her to know it was one of the modules that could be found on a Kowloon class light cruiser, a ship that could act as both a medical unit and a research lab, depending on the needs of the crew piloting it.
"Just how drunk did I get?" Ashley laughed nervously as she rubbed her forehead, wondering if she had been picked up by a medical crew after stumbling out of the club.
"Not so much drunk, more sedated," a voice rang out, causing Ashley to snap around to find its source.
"Who's there?" Ashley demanded, narrowing her eyes on the black glass panel. "What do you mean, 'sedated'?"
"It's just how it sounds, Ms Williams," the voice replied, laced with a cocky undertone that sounded a little too familiar to Ashley. "A few well timed drops of rapid dissolve capsules into your drinks was all that was needed. All I had to do after that was wait for them to kick in, then I could drag you away before anyone noticed."
"You're going to regret that when I get my hands around your throat, you bastard!" Ashley seethed, quickly searching for any exit she could find, but could find none. It became evident just how much work her captor had put into keeping her locked up for his own sick reason. "Open the door now, and I might go easy on you."
"Why would I do that?" the voice inquired, enjoying the frustration of the marine. "We haven't even started the experiment yet."
"Alright, so you clearly have a death wish. And you also seem to be aware of who I am," Ashley walked towards the glass, shooting a glare harsh enough to burn through it. Looking closely, she noticed a thin black metal collar hugging her throat, with 'TS-1' illuminated along the front. "So why don't you stop all the cloak and dagger and reveal yourself?"
