by Cole Price
Shepard appeared, sprinting around the corner of the crashed Alliance shuttle and drawing his sidearm. “Let her go!”
It cocked its head, as if considering the situation, and then whirled. Slammed Ashley’s head against the hull of the Cerberus shuttle with terrible force. Then again, and again.
“No!” Shepard shouted.
It dropped Ashley like a broken toy, and then flashed across the open space, charging Shepard. I tried to bring my sidearm to bear, but it was too fast.
Bang-bang-bang. Shepard rapid-fired his sidearm, striking the thing repeatedly in its center of mass.
Finally, less than three meters away from him, it twisted and went down in a shower of sparks.
He ran to Ashley, where she lay limp and pathetic under the wrath of the storm. “Ash! My God, Ash!”
Darkness loomed in the air above us. I glanced up, at first expecting to see the storm clouds threatening, but instead I saw a long, sleek shape in the sky.
Normandy.
“You there, Commander?” A voice crackled over the radio, so familiar that I gasped in relief. Joker. “We’ve got Reaper signatures in orbit. ETA less than a minute. We’ve got to get moving!”
Shepard bent and swung Ashley into a carry position. “Liara?”
“I can walk,” I groaned, starting to hobble toward Normandy and its access ramp.
“James, get that thing.”
“Aye-aye.” The burly lieutenant bent and hefted the infiltrator’s shell into his arms.
Battered but alive, we climbed into Normandy’s cargo hold. The access ramp closed behind us.
I collapsed against a stack of crates and peeled the respirator mask away, gasping for air as I felt the ship rise and flee into the Martian sky.
Chapter 7 : Council
11 April 2186, Interstellar Space
I heard the outer door of the medical bay open, followed by Shepard’s voice. “Liara?”
“Back here,” I called from the rear of the compartment, in Normandy’s AI core.
He appeared in the inner doorway. “We’re a few minutes from the relay transit to Widow. Joker says we should be docking at the Citadel within the hour.”
I turned away from my work, crossed the room to step into his embrace. It felt good to simply hold him for a minute, feeling the strength of his arms around me, the warmth of his cheek against my crest. “Goddess,” I breathed into his chest. “What a day.”
“It’s not over yet.” He tipped my face up for a brief kiss, and then released me. “What have you and EDI managed to learn from that thing?”
I looked back at the shell of the Cerberus infiltrator, still lying motionless on a work table, wrapped in sensors and a thicket of hardline connections. “Its data storage is still intact. We’ve been able to recover all the Crucible data. We also learned that I need to ask Miranda Lawson some very pointed questions.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Have you ever wondered how Cerberus could reconstruct your brain, with your previous memories intact?” I turned away from him, finding it difficult to look into his eyes. “They had a crib sheet. All of your memories in storage.”
“How did they . . . oh. Liara, you didn’t.”
“I did. They had a cybernetic device for reading and recording memory traces, based on asari technology. I permitted them to read my memories, so they could sort through the traces and recover yours. Miranda gave me a solemn promise that the data would never be used except in support of the Lazarus Project.”
He gave me a cynical smile. “You believed her?”
“I doubt she had any way to control what was done with the data after she left Cerberus. Apparently the Illusive Man recovered the records from the wreckage of Lazarus Station, and found another purpose for them.” I pointed at the lifeless shell. “That thing has a copy. In some sense, it remembers what it was like to be Liara T’Soni, as of about two years and nine months ago.”
“Hmm. A quick way to produce an infiltrator mech that’s also an expert in Prothean archaeology.”
“Not to mention it would have some insight into my psychology. It might have been able to predict my movements. I wonder if that one machine hasn’t shadowed me for most of the last two months.”
“Possibly. You’re sure it’s offline?”
“EDI is sure. She’s continuing to data-mine its deep storage, to see if there’s anything we’ve missed so far.”
“Okay. You’ll be ready to present your findings to the Council?”
“As soon as we reach the Citadel.” I glanced into his face, and saw a flicker of uncertainty there. “Shepard, I’m sure the Council will see the need to help. They can’t possibly continue to deny the existence of the Reapers at this point.”
“It will be a hell of a short war if they do.” He turned back out into the medical bay, motioning for me to follow. “What about Ash?”
I shook my head as we walked over to the covered medical bed on which Ashley lay. “I wish some medical personnel had been on board when you had to flee Earth. I’ve done what I can for her, put her into temporary stasis, but I’m not a qualified physician. She needs emergency care.”
“I’ve called ahead. Huerta Memorial will have a trauma team standing by in the docking bay when we arrive.”
“Good.” I sighed, feeling overcome with fatigue. “By the way, I believe the human custom is to say: happy birthday.”
He turned and stared at me. “My God. That never even occurred to me.”
“I can understand that. You spent your last two birthdays dead, and it would be rather difficult to celebrate this one.”
He wrapped me in his arms once more, making me feel warm and cherished for a moment. “I suppose you’re right. At least the two of us are together for this fight, from the very beginning. That gives me some confidence we might be able to celebrate the next one.”
Goddess, I hope so.
“Commander.”
“Go ahead, EDI.”
“I’m receiving a transmission over the secondary QEC. I believe it’s from Admiral Hackett.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “Hackett has survived?”
Shepard made a grim smile, his eyes suddenly alight. “If anyone could pull off a fighting retreat against the Reapers, it’s him. EDI, forward the transmission to the comm room. Liara and I will be right there.”
* * *
Shepard stalked into Normandy’s new comm facility, with me less than two steps behind. We could already hear Admiral Hackett’s voice, cloudy with distortion and subharmonics.
“. . . Shepard, are you reading me? Commander?”
“EDI, see if you can clear this up a bit,” Shepard ordered.
“I’ll do my best.”
Suddenly Hackett’s image on the stage came into focus, enough that I could see details of his uniform and face, see the grinding weariness in his body language.
“Commander. Did you get to the Archives?”
“Yes, Admiral. I was able to pick up Liara and her data. We had to fight through about a platoon of Cerberus troops.”
“Hmm. I was worried Cerberus might try something. Liara, were you able to recover everything?”
“I believe so,” I said. A touch to my omni-tool sent a video file into the link for all of us to examine. Hackett and Shepard saw the Crucible for the first time: a vast mechanism, several kilometers long, with a massive spherical head containing its most critical assemblies. “We have a nearly complete blueprint for the device. A weapon that the Protheans believed would destroy the Reapers, if they could only complete it in time.”
“Send us your data, then. We’ll do our own analysis. If your instincts are right, this might be the key we need.”
“I’ve learned to trust Liara’s instincts, sir.”
“So have I. You said the blueprint was nearly complete?”
“One component remains missing,” I reported. “Here. Something the Protheans called the Catalyst. The Mars Archives didn’t go into more
detail. We may need to continue searching for that last piece of the puzzle.”
“Just building what you have will be a monumental undertaking. Especially given the circumstances.”
“Were you able to get away from the Reaper forces, Admiral?” asked Shepard.
“Barely. The Fourth has been shattered, nothing left from it but a few cruisers and frigates. I had to sacrifice the Second to cover our retreat from Sol and Arcturus. The First, Third, and Fifth all took heavy losses. Still, we managed to disengage and make it to the fallback position at Alpha Cygni. We still have a fleet-in-being. If we can find the resources, we might be able to build this Crucible device.”
My bondmate set his jaw in determination. “I’ll get you those resources, Admiral.”
“Good. Talk to the Council, show them what you’ve found. Convince them that we have to meet the enemy together if we’re going to have any chance to survive this.”
“Hmm. The Council doesn’t exactly have a long record of paying attention to us.”
“They’re still the best chance we have.”
Shepard tossed off a crisp salute. “I’ll do my best.”
“I have every confidence in you, Commander. Hackett out.”
* * *
11 April 2186, Citadel
As soon as we arrived, Shepard found himself buried in Alliance business. The orders returning him to active command of Normandy had not reached Alliance authorities on the Citadel, so his legal and military status remained unclear. This forced him to meet with Alliance officials, and contact Hackett over the QEC once more, before Admiral Saneyoshi became willing to confirm his command. Shepard took the opportunity to request assignment of crew, provisions, and equipment to Normandy, preparing the ship for long-term deployment. Then he took a few minutes to visit Huerta Memorial Hospital and ensure that Ashley was receiving proper care.
I had no such obligations. Instead, I obtained an audience with the Citadel Council.
There is an old human metaphor to describe the use of influence: pulling strings. I did nothing so delicate. I took hold of a heavy cable that lay close at hand, and hauled on it.
In short, I contacted Vara and had her place a call to Councilor Tevos. Using the advanced comm equipment aboard Sheguntai, along with a set of very closely-held authentication codes, she could impersonate the Shadow Broker. She demanded that “the Broker’s representative,” Liara T’Soni, should be permitted to address the Council on the matter of the attack on Earth. Immediately.
Udina would not have been able to convince his colleagues to see me on such short notice. The trick would not have worked on Sparatus or Valern. On the other hand, the Shadow Broker had considerable leverage on Tevos, and she knew it. Thus I could walk directly into the Council’s private chambers while it remained in emergency session, less than half an hour after Normandy docked at the Citadel.
I took a deep breath, doing my best to banish shock, hunger, and exhaustion. I seized control of my body language to project supreme confidence, and strode into the room.
A quick gestalt glance: Udina looking haggard and worn, Sparatus sitting on the very edge of his chair as if he could barely contain his outrage, Valern with his hood thrown forward to conceal most of his face. Only Tevos kept her face and posture under strict control, still putting up a façade of calm reason.
“Councilors. I have just arrived from the Sol system aboard Normandy.” I glanced around the table, catching each pair of eyes in turn. “I do not know what reports have reached you so far. I can attest that the worst has come to pass. The Reapers are attacking Earth.”
Sparatus recoiled in disgust. “Pah. These so-called Reapers again. Is there no end to this nonsense?”
Tevos shook her head. “Councilor, it is not reasonable for you to reject Dr. T’Soni’s testimony. We have known for several days that something catastrophic is happening to trailing of Council space. Credible reports of the apparent collapse of the Batarian Hegemony, and a flood of batarian refugees crossing Alliance space in our direction.”
“If some force attacked the batarians, the natural next step would be to invade human territory,” observed Valern.
Sparatus fumed, but he put up no further objection.
Tevos turned to me. “What information do you have, Dr. T’Soni?”
I stood at parade rest, my hands linked behind my back, and made my voice very crisp and cold.
“Councilors, about six hours ago a massive invasion force entered the Sol system. The Alliance fleets were forewarned and had already gone to a war footing. Most of their ships had recently been upgraded with new armor, kinetic barriers, and weapons systems. All of these preparations made no difference whatsoever.
“The invaders engaged the Alliance’s First Fleet near the Charon relay. Within minutes, they also engaged the Fourth Fleet in Earth orbital space. Within minutes after that, they landed on Earth in overwhelming force. I was on Mars at the time. I personally saw real-time news broadcasts from many of Earth’s largest cities, all of them under simultaneous attack.
“The enemy’s largest ships are clearly of design similar to Sovereign. We have not been able to complete an order-of-battle assessment, but it is clear that the enemy has hundreds of such ships, along with many smaller vessels. We have also heard reports of ground troops on Earth in very large numbers, although we have not yet been able to verify that.
“The Alliance has already taken losses greater than any in its history. The Reapers destroyed over one-third of the Alliance Navy before Admiral Hackett could disengage and escape. The enemy has apparently demolished Arcturus Station. We have no information as to the fate of Prime Minister Shastri, his cabinet, or the rest of the Alliance Parliament. We estimate about a seventy percent probability that Councilor Udina is now the most senior surviving member of the Alliance government.”
I paused for a moment, watching that sink in. All of the Councilors sat still and speechless. Udina had turned a sickly greyish color, leaning heavily on the table to remain upright.
The door opened again behind me. I didn’t look away from the Councilors, but I felt a familiar presence walk up and stand at my side.
Shepard.
“Councilors,” he began. “I’m sure Liara has filled you in on the situation. The Reapers are here, they are attacking Earth, and this is only the beginning. We need your help. Everything you can spare.”
“Each of us faces a similar situation,” said Tevos. “If this is the Reapers, we must see to our own defenses, or face extinction. If we lend you our own strength, our own worlds may very well fall.”
Udina stirred. “Colleagues, we must fight this enemy together.”
“So that’s your entire strategy?” snapped Valern. “We should just follow you to Earth and throw away our forces in a hopeless battle?”
“I don’t expect you to follow us without a plan,” said Shepard, turning to me.
“Councilors, there is a possibility,” I said. “We have a blueprint, created by the Protheans during their war with the Reapers.”
“A blueprint for what?” demanded Valern.
“A device.” I called up the Crucible image for the Councilors to examine. “It appears to be a weapon of some sort.”
“Capable of destroying the Reapers?”
“So it would seem.”
The salarian leaned forward to inspect the images closely. “The scale . . . it would be a colossal undertaking.”
Shepard shook his head. “Not necessarily. We’ve already forwarded the plans to Admiral Hackett. The remnants of the human fleet are already gathering resources to begin construction.”
“Our initial calculations suggest the device is very feasible to build,” I said, adding more data to the displays.
“If we work together!” Shepard stated.
“Have you considered that the Reapers destroyed the Protheans?” asked Tevos. “What good did this weapon do them?”
Sparatus turned in his chair, staring at Tevos with abrup
t suspicion.
I nodded to myself.
Now that the Reapers are indisputably here, Tevos has set aside all pretense of doubt in their existence.
“My own research indicates that the Protheans placed a great deal of confidence in this device,” I said aloud. “They were convinced that it would defeat the Reapers, but they began work on its construction very late in their war. They simply ran out of time. We may have more success, if we seize the opportunity at once.”
Tevos stared at us with wide eyes. “Do you truly believe this can stop the Reapers?”
“Liara believes it can work, and so do I.” Once more, Shepard looked around the table, catching each of the Councilors’ eyes in turn. “And while I haven’t always agreed with Udina, he’s right about this. We need to stand together. Now more than ever. The Reapers won’t stop at Earth. They’ll destroy every trace of our civilizations if we don’t find a way to stop them.”
Tevos glanced to her left to confer silently with Valern. Then to her right . . .
All at once, I realized that Councilor Sparatus was paying no attention to any of the rest of us. One hand rested at the side of his head, as he listened to a private comm channel.
“Spirits,” he said at last, so much raw passion in his voice that I felt an icy chill down my spine.
“Councilor?” asked Tevos.
The turian slowly rose from the table, his predator’s gaze completely unfocused. His hand fell to his side as if the nerves in that arm had been cut. “Councilors . . . I’ve just received word . . . Palaven is under attack. We had almost no warning. Our forces fight back as best they can, but the enemy is more powerful than anything we’ve ever faced.”
I felt a sudden burst of vicious rage, which I did my best to keep far away from my face.
What, no air quotes this time?
“Councilor, we have a proposal on the table,” Tevos reminded him. “Should we support the human request to move to the defense of Earth, while commencing work on this Prothean device?”
“I . . .” The turian rallied visibly. “I’m sorry. I can’t support such a proposal at this time. I must consult with my government in more detail.”
