The Reaper War

by Cole Price

  * * *

  12 April 2186, Menae Orbit

  Normandy dropped out of FTL a few thousand kilometers above Menae. We could see at once that the Reapers had arrived ahead of us.

  Shepard opened the intercom to the staging deck. “James, unlock the armory. Landing party of five: myself, you, Sergeant Tsege, Corporal Vance, and Liara. We depart in ten minutes.”

  “Roger that, Commander.”

  I glanced at Shepard, wondering for a moment why he wanted me along for the mission, but then I deduced his reasoning. He and I were the only biotics on board at the moment. Once he had issued last-minute orders to Joker and Specialist Traynor, he headed for the lift with me in tow.

  “Liara, I have a surprise for you,” he said once the doors were closed.

  “Will I like this surprise?”

  “You’ll have to tell me,” he teased me, smiling.

  Keep your secrets, then.

  I understood as soon as we stepped out onto the staging deck. “Steven!”

  Lieutenant Steven Cortez turned from where he performed final preparations on the Kodiak shuttle. He grinned widely as soon as he saw me. “Doctor T’Soni.”

  I hurried forward to hug him. “It’s very good to see you. Did Admiral Saneyoshi assign you to us?”

  “At my very specific request,” said the burly, dark-skinned human. “Pass up a chance to serve with the Commander, and with you? Not on your life.”

  “Hey, pendejo, you know the Doc?” James Vega loomed up beside us, bulkier than ever in his full combat armor, watching the two of us with bemused affection.

  “Dr. T’Soni saved my life on Ferris Fields,” said Steven quietly.

  “Hmm.” I shook my head in rejection. “I would argue that Yevgeni Stoletov did that. It doesn’t matter. I’m very glad you’re here, Steven.”

  “Good surprise?” asked Shepard.

  I gave him a warm smile. “Very good surprise. Thank you.”

  He nodded, but then his face became set and grim. “That’s all the reunion time we have, I’m afraid. Everyone saddle up.”

  We boarded the Kodiak: four human Marines, Steven as our pilot, and me. I caught a few sidelong glances from Tsege and Vance, but under Shepard’s watchful eye neither of them stepped out of line. It reminded me of my first days aboard the original Normandy, when the human crew knew me only as the traitor Benezia’s daughter.

  The Kodiak emerged from Normandy’s staging bay and began a steep descent to the surface of Menae. All of us got our first good look at Palaven, about twenty-five thousand kilometers away, the planet’s night face visibly turning toward us as Menae hurried through its orbit.

  Sickly blotches of red-orange light spread across the surface. The planet was burning.

  “Goddess,” I whispered. “Palaven.”

  James glanced at me, concerned.

  “We have an old friend there,” Shepard explained.

  “Holy hell,” James groaned. “They’re getting decimated.”

  “Strongest military in the galaxy and the Reapers are obliterating it,” Shepard agreed bleakly.

  “Was it like this on Earth?” I asked.

  He turned to look at me with haunted eyes. “Yes.”

  “Shepard. I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah.”

  Steven called back to us from the cockpit. “Commander, the LZ is getting swarmed.”

  Shepard stood, gathering all of us with his eyes. “James, open that hatch.”

  The side hatch swung open. The turians had applied mass-effect technology to give the moonlet reasonable gravity and a breathable atmosphere, so at least we didn’t need sealed hardsuits. I could see the surface of Menae spread out before us: stone and dust in every possible shade of dull gray, under a merciless black sky full of stars. A fortified outpost stood perhaps half a kilometer away, bristling with guard towers and weapon mounts, all of them pouring fire down onto the surface.

  Between us and the outpost surged an army of husks.

  I barely had time to compose a quick prayer for the Goddess before Shepard leaped to the surface, James and the other Marines close behind. Reflexes kicked in that I had picked up over the past three years. Almost without conscious thought, I sprang down and ran to follow.

  The husks spotted us at once, even while Steven lifted off to return to Normandy. Dozens of them – over a hundred of them – turned to rush us.

  So many. Goddess, there are so many!

  Shepard and his Marines fanned out slightly to form a perimeter, laying down as much fire as four assault rifles could produce. Occasionally one of them flung a grenade into the seething mass of husks.

  I didn’t even bother to draw my sidearm. I didn’t need the distraction. Instead I watched the husks, tried to sense the ebb and flow of their flocking behavior. The Marines couldn’t fire in every direction at once. Sooner or later they would be forced to leave a gap for the monsters to charge through.

  There.

  I reached down deep, spreading both arms wide, my corona blazing bright enough to cast shadows across the whole battlefield. With a shout, I placed an enormous singularity in the middle of the gap, catching half a dozen husks and blocking the path for the rest.

  Shepard must have been waiting for it. He brought up his own corona, blue-white light appearing around his shoulders and upper arms, even while he continued to fire his assault rifle. My singularity barely had time to take shape, snarling like a great beast shaped out of twisted light, before he flung his right hand out in an emphatic stop gesture. A biotic shockwave slammed across the field, flinging two errant husks into space before it collided with my telekinetic vortex.

  The detonation seemed like a small nuclear charge going off a few meters away. The flash blinded all of us for an instant. The concussion was more felt than heard, a compression wave in the air that slapped my face, drummed on my gut, and nearly shattered my aural membranes. When my senses cleared, I saw an abbatoir of broken and shattered husks in the middle of the field.

  I also saw that it wasn’t enough. More were on the way. A lot more.

  “Squad, slow march, advance,” Shepard ordered.

  We moved forward, into the teeth of the Reaper charge.

  I continued to watch the husks, estimating where they would mass next. Twice more I laid down singularities, as large as I could manage. Twice more Shepard gestured with his right hand, mowing down husks and setting off biotic detonations powerful enough to make the very ground tremble.

  As we approached the turian outpost, the defenders began to lay down their own fire among the swarming husks. It took some of the pressure off us. Not all of it.

  The enemy fell by the score. By the hundred. Several times they came close to swarming us, but we always managed to fend them off with some desperate ploy at the last moment.

  I never had time to think, only to react. It was wild, terrifying, and glorious.

  By the time we reached the turian outpost’s gates, the humans were down to about one thermal clip each, and had exhausted their supply of grenades. I groaned with sheer fatigue, pain like an iron spike in the back of my skull to tell me I had just transcended the limits on my biotic power.

  Behind us, over three hundred husks lay broken on the ground.

  “I had to see it to believe it,” came a turian voice from the top of the nearest wall.

  I glanced up.

  Garrus Vakarian stood there, his beloved Mantis sniper rifle held at the ready, his mandibles spread wide in a turian grin.

  Suddenly I began to think we might win a victory.

  Chapter 9 : Normandy Down

  12 April 2186, Menae

  At a command from Garrus, the turians opened the gate of their fortified outpost and granted us admission. Shepard hurried forward to greet our friend with a quick hug and an enthusiastic handshake.

  “Garrus! We had no idea you were here.”

  “Same to you,” said the turian. “First we heard about a shuttle in Alliance colors, trying to
land a squad south of us, in the middle of a sea of husks. Stupid, we all thought. Bunch of crazy humans, just going to get themselves killed. Then came these big blue-white flashes of light, and this awful noise like someone dropping small nukes. Somehow I just knew it was you. I only had to follow the sound of the explosions. What, did you bring an artillery battalion in your back pocket?”

  Shepard grinned. “No, just my bondmate.”

  Garrus turned to me, his mandibles wide. “Good to see you, Liara.”

  I smiled and hugged him as well. “You too, Garrus.”

  Shepard made introductions. “Men, this is Garrus Vakarian. He’s one hell of a soldier – he was with me against both Saren and the Collectors. Garrus, I’d like you to meet Lieutenant James Vega, Sergeant Elias Tsege, and Corporal Kieran Vance.”

  Handshakes followed all around, as the Marines greeted Garrus in turn.

  “Well, Shepard, not that I’m ungrateful or anything, but I do have to wonder what brings you here.” Garrus glanced over his shoulder, to where Palaven loomed huge on the horizon, marked by fires the size of small continents. “Is the Alliance coming to help?”

  Shepard shook his head, his expression suddenly harsh. “I’m afraid not, Garrus. The Reapers hit Earth yesterday, and despite everything the Shastri government did to prepare, we weren’t ready. As bad as it looks here, it’s twice as bad there.”

  “I see.” Garrus made a gesture, beckoning us deeper into the compound. We followed as he led us toward a field command post. “So why are you here? Spectre business?”

  Shepard gave the turian a sharp glance.

  “I’ve got a few contacts these days,” Garrus explained. “I have my inbox set to flag any news with your name attached to it. We got word a few hours ago that you had been reinstated.”

  “Yeah. Spectre business. Councilor Sparatus sent Normandy to evacuate Primarch Fedorian, so the war summit he proposed can move forward.”

  Garrus stopped, glanced back at us with a shadowed look in his eyes. “Primarch Fedorian is dead.”

  I felt my heart sink. Goddess. Now what?

  “What happened?” asked Shepard quietly.

  “It was getting too hot here,” Garrus explained. “He wanted to stay, but his staff insisted on evacuating him out of system. We diverted some ships from the fight over Palaven, but the enemy shot his shuttle down when he tried to make a run to reach them.”

  “Damn. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Mierda,” growled James. “What do we do now?”

  “The turian meritocracy has very clear lines of succession,” I pointed out. “Did the Primarch have a successor?”

  Garrus shook his head. “Things aren’t working normally right now, what with the Reapers blowing holes in the usual protocols. We’re trying to contact Palaven Command, to let them know what happened to Primarch Fedorian, and figure out who might be in line to succeed him.”

  “All right. Who’s in command here?”

  Garrus hesitated, giving Shepard a glance I couldn’t interpret. “The senior line officer is General Corinthus,” he said at last, his tone suggesting careful phrasing. “I’ll take you to him.”

  I understood once we arrived at the makeshift command post. The turian in charge seemed too busy at first to take notice of us, dispatching junior officers and sergeants to deal with crises on all sides. Then he caught Garrus out of the corner of his eye.

  He snapped upright. He saluted. “Vakarian, sir! Didn’t see you arrive.”

  “At ease, General,” said Garrus.

  Corinthus obeyed.

  I glanced at Shepard, who did his best to conceal astonishment. Yes, he had noticed too.

  Garrus has moved up in the turian hierarchy. A long way up.

  “General, this is Commander Shepard. His associates: Dr. Liara T’Soni, Lieutenant James Vega, Sergeant Elias Tsege, and Corporal Kieran Vance. Shepard, General Lucos Corinthus.”

  Shepard shook the general’s hand firmly. “General. I’m here looking for the Primarch. I understand there’s some question as to the succession.”

  “Yes.” Corinthus looked away, watching the disciplined movement of his troops with empty eyes. “Normally the succession is clear, but right now the hierarchy is in chaos. So many dead or MIA.”

  Shepard put his command tone into his voice. “General, I need someone, and I don’t much care who. Someone the turian people will recognize as their legitimate leader in wartime.”

  “We may be able to do that,” said the general. “Palaven Command just got through. They’ve worked out the rules of succession. The next Primarch is General Adrien Victus.”

  “Victus?” I brought a hand to my lips in surprise. “I know him.”

  Garrus peered at me. “How?”

  “I was on Taetrus during the uprisings, providing intel support to the turian loyalists. Tela Vasir and I worked closely with General Victus for some time.”

  Shepard made a small, ironic smile, reminded of memories I had shared with him.

  Garrus gave me a double-take. “Wait a minute. You were working with Vasir?”

  “This was before the Shadow Broker ordered her to assassinate me,” I explained. “She had come to Taetrus in her role as a Spectre. We actually cooperated quite effectively at the time.”

  “What can you tell us about Victus?” Shepard asked.

  “Well, he’s here on Menae. I was fighting alongside him this morning.” Garrus shrugged. “Lifelong military. Gets results, popular with his troops. Not so popular with military command. He has a reputation for playing fast and loose with tactical doctrine.”

  “How so?” asked Shepard.

  I stepped in. “During the uprisings, my team helped his division uncover the presence of a salarian spy ring in disputed territory. We also learned that the separatists had already discovered the salarians. Rather than neutralize the ring, General Victus fell back. He even gave up valuable fortifications, which the rebels took.”

  “Then the rebels attacked the salarians,” said Garrus, appreciation in his voice. “When both groups had worn each other down, Victus moved back in. Retook the ground he had given up, defeated both the salarians and the rebels. Didn’t lose a man.”

  “Bold strategy,” Corinthus commented over his shoulder. “But wild behavior doesn’t get you advanced up the meritocracy.”

  “It does if it works,” Garrus reprimanded the general mildly. “Primarch Victus. Now that will be something to see.”

  “You think he can get the job done?” asked Shepard.

  Garrus shook his head. “We both know conventional strategy won’t beat the Reapers. Right now he may be our best shot. And I trust him.”

  “Okay. Let’s get him on the shuttle and get him out of here.”

  “Commander! Shepard, come in!” Joker, calling from Normandy.

  Shepard put his hand to the side of his head. “Can this wait, Joker? We’re in the middle of a war zone.”

  “We’ve got a situation on Normandy, Commander. We’ve lost control – it’s like she’s possessed! Systems keep going up and down, life support cutting out, weapons coming online. It’s a miracle I’ve been able to hold this comm channel open. We can’t find the source!”

  “Damn.” He glanced around at the rest of us. “I need Normandy standing by and at one hundred percent. We may need to bug out.”

  “I’m surprised that Engineer Adams can’t discover the cause,” I said. “It sounds like a fault in the central control systems. Perhaps EDI has been affected.”

  Shepard nodded. “Liara, you’ve picked up a lot of cyber-engineering experience over the past few years. Call Cortez. Get yourself back to Normandy and help Adams figure this out.”

  I hesitated only a moment, long enough to exchange a glance with him.

  Go on, Liara, I could almost hear him say. We’ll be fine.

  Then I nodded and turned to sprint for the landing zone, already moving to call for pickup.

  * * *

  12 April 218
6, Menae Orbit

  “Normandy, this is Cortez. I’m inbound with Dr. T’Soni on board.”

  “Roger that, Lieutenant,” said Joker. “Staging bay is open. Be advised that you’d better keep sealed up. The kinetic barrier is still in place for now but Adams doesn’t trust it. Hate to see you standing there in your skivvies if the air decides to go on vacation.”

  “Understood.” Cortez glanced at me. “Doctor, you had better suit up.”

  I nodded and moved back to the passenger compartment, opening a suit locker and changing as quickly as I could. I left the helmet off, attached to my belt.

  Normandy loomed ahead of us.

  “Better hang on,” the pilot warned. “It doesn’t look as if Joker has complete attitude control. Might have to improvise a little here.”

  I followed his suggestion as he maneuvered, apparently tipping the shuttle up on its side in order to line up with the staging bay doors. He landed as smoothly as usual. I patted him on the shoulder before turning to the hatch. “Go back out and be ready to pick up the squad. Things are hot down there. Shepard may need a quick extraction.”

  “Roger that, Doctor.”

  I put the helmet on and locked it into place before I signaled for the hatch. As it happened, the kinetic barrier stayed up while I crossed the staging bay floor, even while Cortez lifted off and departed once more.

  On the other hand, I found the lift offline. I activated my communicator, failed to get through the ship’s network, switched over to suit radio instead. “Engineer Adams? Dr. T’Soni here. I’m stuck on the staging bay.”

  “Doctor, it’s good to hear from you. We’ve got quite a situation on our hands.”

  “So I was told. Where are you, and how can I reach you?”

  “There’s an access tube in the aft-starboard corner of the bay. Do you still have atmosphere integrity down there?”

  “For the moment.”

  “Good. I can’t seem to close the bay doors from here, so if the barrier goes down you’re in hard vacuum. Get in the access tube as soon as you can. It can act as an airlock if the barrier fails. Come up to the crew deck and I’ll meet you there.”