by Cole Price
Shepard’s biotic flash-charges were of no use, except as a short-range tactic. We had to fight the old-fashioned way: dig in behind cover, watch our flanks, and pick off the enemy one by one. Shepard and I did put our biotics to good use, detonating one another’s fields to tear big holes in the Cerberus line. It also helped that Jack and the biotic students supported us, looking down from a balcony high above the atrium. They poured warps and singularities down on Cerberus positions. Several times, only their intervention kept us from being overwhelmed.
We held our ground. After a time, we began to advance. A few minutes after that, we broke them.
“Everyone all right up there?” called Shepard, as we double-timed our way out the far side of the atrium.
“Rodriguez took a hit, because she didn’t watch her barrier!” said Jack, still imparting instruction. “Nothing medi-gel won’t cure. Meet you at the shuttle bay.”
“Kahlee Sanders here,” came another voice. “I’m almost there myself, with a few more students. Watch out though, Commander. From the Cerberus chatter I’m picking up, they’re getting ready for a counter-attack.”
“Roger that, Dr. Sanders. We’ll be ready.”
We opened another door. To our surprise, we found one Cerberus soldier, a combat engineer working to repair yet another Atlas mech, with no other support in sight.
Shepard made a truly vicious grin.
The Cerberus soldier looked up, just in time to see my bondmate flash-charging into his face. It was probably the last thing he saw, since he then flew twenty meters and shattered half his bones against the far wall of the corridor.
“EDI, think you can get this mech operational?”
EDI stepped up to the mech, raising one hand to an open access panel, short fine cables extruding from her fingertips to plug into interface points inside. “Give me thirty seconds.”
“Do your best.” Shepard climbed up into the pilot’s seat, closing the canopy behind him. Soon enough, whole banks of status lights began to burn green, and the massive engine on the mech’s back spun into life. “All right, let’s go.”
We opened the great doors, deploying out into a vast hall, with a fountain and a tall bronze statue of Jon Grissom in the center. Rushing to the back of the space, we took cover and waited for Cerberus to arrive, Shepard in his mech at the center of our line.
It didn’t count as much of a battle. For Cerberus, it constituted a slaughter.
* * *
17 April 2186, Vetus System Space
The mission over, Normandy on its way back to the mass relay with over twenty of humanity’s brightest young minds on board, I sought out Shepard. I found him in the starboard crew lounge, sitting and sharing a quiet drink with Jack and Kahlee Sanders.
“Liara, come join us.”
“Thank you, Shepard, I think I will. Is there any Scotch left?”
Shepard passed me the bottle and a tumbler as I collapsed into a comfortable chair. I sipped at the whiskey and sighed in contentment, closing my eyes as the peaty taste rolled across my tongue.
Sanders watched me with some interest. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen an asari drinking human liquor before.”
“I acquired a taste for it after I met Shepard. It was a comfort during the period when he was missing.” I opened my eyes and stared at the blonde woman with regret. “Dr. Sanders, I feel I owe you an apology.”
“How so?”
“I had agents on Omega a few months back, while you and Admiral Anderson worked to locate Gillian Grayson.” I had to pause, watching the expression on her face. “We too hoped to save her. In the end, we just didn’t move fast enough. Kai Leng is a formidable opponent.”
“Hmm.” Her eyes became hooded, her face rigid with anger. “It seems all of us have reason to hate Cerberus.”
“You said it, Kahlee.” Jack hurled the entire contents of her glass down her throat in one convulsive movement. “Speaking of which, yeah, I’m glad we got the kids off the station, and I’m glad we’ve decided how they’re going to contribute to the war effort. The question is, now what? How are we going to kick Cerberus ass so hard, they crawl back into whatever hole they came out of?”
“I have some ideas about that,” said Shepard. “First, Normandy is going back to the Citadel. Dr. Sanders, from there you and your young scientists and engineers can make your way to Admiral Hackett. He has a very large-scale project, critical to the war effort against the Reapers, that I think you’ll find interesting. Jack, the Admiral concurs that you and your students should form the core of a biotic support cadre.”
“Good,” said Jack. “I’m not comfortable putting the kids on the front line. They’re not ready. But none of that answers my question, Shepard.”
Shepard took another sip of his drink and nodded. “Eden Prime. Back where it all began.”
“We heard that Cerberus has occupied the planet,” said Sanders. “God alone knows what kind of brutalities they’re inflicting on the poor colonists. But why there?”
“Alliance intel reports that the archaeological teams working on Eden Prime discovered something remarkable, just before the war began,” I said. “A Prothean artifact, like nothing they had ever seen before. That seems to be the focal point of Cerberus interest. So we go in and hopefully steal the artifact out from under their collective noses.”
“And if we can help the colonists fight back against the Cerberus occupying force along the way, all the better,” said Shepard. “One thing worries me, though. It’s great that we’ve managed to give Cerberus a bloody nose, and I’m all for doing that as often as needed, but we also need to get the word out somehow. Give the people back on Earth a reason to dig in and keep fighting.”
I smiled and said nothing.
Shepard saw it. “Uh-oh. T’Soni, you’ve got that look on your face again. What are you thinking?”
“Nothing too frightening,” I assured him, producing a datapad from inside my jacket. “I might have a solution to the morale problem, that’s all.”
Shepard took the datapad and examined it closely, Jack and Dr. Sanders watching him with interest.
Diana Allers, reporting for the Battlespace.
Chapter 12 : The Survivor
22 April 2186, New Providence/Eden Prime
The Second Battle of Eden Prime began just before local dawn at the New Providence settlement. Colonial resistance forces emerged from cover and launched a fierce counterattack against Cerberus, pulling the enemy out of position. Then Normandy swept out of the sky, a dark shadow against the just-risen sun. Thanix cannon obliterated the three missile emplacements placed to protect the Cerberus dig site. Then the stealth frigate hovered over a landing zone just outside the settlement, pouring soldiers onto the surface.
Shepard and James Vega led two squads of Alliance marines, Normandy’s full complement of troops. Kahlee Sanders and Jack led another dozen young biotic specialists, lightly armed and armored but ready for their first engagement. Garrus Vakarian and Tyrus Skavros represented the Turian Hierarchy. EDI sent her mobile platform to provide technical support.
The Shadow Broker went with the assault team as well, just in case someone needed the expertise of an archaeologist who had once specialized in the Protheans.
Eden Prime in the early morning. Blue skies flecked with cloud, cool breezes, hillsides lush with green.
The stench of unburied corpses.
As we moved toward the dig site, we found colonists lying in the open, most of them apparently shot down as they tried to flee. Shepard sent Marines into a few buildings on either side, to find more colonists killed in their homes, all several days dead. Cerberus must have slaughtered the whole settlement as soon as they arrived.
“Take a good look, kids,” said Jack, her face pale with barely suppressed rage. “This is what Cerberus is all about. This is what they do.”
One of the young female biotics, the one named Rodriguez, suddenly dashed to the side to heave her morning meal into the bushes.
Shepard interrupted. “She’s right, Kahlee, and you know it.”
Sanders stared at him with wide eyes, her face drawn and pinched.
Shepard turned to the young biotics and raised his voice. “You all wanted to fight. That’s good. Everyone who can fight has a right and an obligation to help, when all our survival is on the line. But I can’t sugar-coat this for you. War is a bloody, vicious, ugly business. This war is going to be worse than most. You’re going to have to grit your teeth, focus on doing what you’ve trained to do, and work to stop the bastards who do things like this.”
Rodriguez stood, blinking tears out of her eyes. “Commander? How do you see something like this, and keep going?”
Jack scowled, obviously ready to lash out at the girl, but kept silent to defer to Shepard.
“I won’t lie to you, Ensign. It’s tough, and it never gets any easier.” Shepard stepped forward, put a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “The best advice I can give you is to remember that you’re not alone. You’ve got people who care about you, friends, teammates who will stand and fight at your side. Give them strength when they need it, and they will do the same for you.”
The young man named Prangley joined them, giving the girl a pat on the back. “He’s right. Come on, Rodriguez, we need you.”
Shepard turned, and for just a moment gave Jack an intent stare. I could read what he was thinking.
You’re not alone any more either, Jack.
The tattooed woman shot back a glare full of sparks, but then she nodded in acceptance.
“You heard the man. Fall in and let’s get this sh—” Jack caught herself. “This job done.”
We moved deeper into the settlement. I looked around and shook my head in despair. “This was such a beautiful place once.”
“They get hit by Saren and his geth, and then this happens,” agreed James. “Pobres just can’t catch a break, can they?”
“They can come back, even from this,” said Garrus. “Just so long as we win.”
“They rebuilt Mindoir,” said Shepard wearily. “It wasn’t the same.”
As if I needed any more reasons to hate Cerberus, I thought. After the geth attack of 2183, I had diverted a large portion of my inheritance from Benezia, well over a billion credits, to an anonymous trust for the Eden Prime colony. For a time it had seemed to help. All that work gone to waste.
James opened his omni-tool to glance at a map. “Hey, Loco, now that I think about it, isn’t this where you first ran into Saren?”
“Yeah.” Shepard pointed to one side. “They found the beacon over on the other side of this settlement, about five kilometers off in that direction.”
“This town must have been built right over an old Prothean site. Big one. Maybe it was a whole city, or a military base of some kind. You think the colonists knew when they came here?”
“No, Lieutenant,” I told him. “I first visited here not long after the First Contact War. Your people knew very little about the Protheans, only what you had managed to recover from the archives on Mars. I advised the colonial government on how to cope with the wealth of artifacts they had begun to discover. At the time, none of us had any idea anything of value was under New Providence.”
“Brought ‘em nothing but bad luck, it looks like.” James glanced back at me, a gleam of humor in his eye. “You ever dig up any dinosaurs when you were working a site like this, Doc?”
“No. Dinosaurs would be paleontology. I’m an archaeologist. I study the artifacts of prehistoric sentient cultures – and you were joking.”
The burly Marine grinned. “Hey, I just like dinosaurs.”
I almost rebuked him, but then I glanced around at the others. Vega’s chatter had lightened the mood. Even the young biotics had recovered somewhat from their earlier shock. So instead I caught the Marine’s eye, smiled slightly, and nodded in approval.
“There’s the dig site,” said Shepard.
We hurried forward, stopping on the edge of a big open pit. The human archaeologists had dug an enormous sampling trench, excavating down well over a dozen meters into the soil and rock. I frowned, disapproving of such careless technique.
Goddess alone knows how many small or delicate artifacts they destroyed by digging so quickly. Not to mention that they couldn’t possibly have preserved the context.
Still, it appeared the humans had plenty to choose from. Even at first glance, I could see Prothean artifacts still left at the bottom of the pit, more than I could count at once, some of them quite large.
“Look at that,” murmured Garrus. “Bits of Prothean tech just sticking out of the ground, like old bones.”
“Where’s the artifact everyone was so excited about, Liara?” asked Shepard.
I glanced around, saw a computer console positioned by the lift the humans must have used to descend to the bottom of the pit. I touched the controls, finding little security in place, and went searching for work logs. “Here we go . . .”
I froze, staring at the text on the screen, my fingers recoiling slightly from the controls.
Shepard must have seen something in my face. “Liara?”
“Goddess. This doesn’t seem possible.”
“What is it?”
“The scientists here didn’t simply find a Prothean artifact. They found a Prothean.”
“What?”
I glanced aside, and found Shepard far from the only one dealing with sudden surprise and wonder. Dr. Sanders, James, Garrus, even the Primarch’s man Skavros, all of them watched us with keen interest. Only Jack seemed unmoved, scanning the horizon with a worried expression on her face.
“They discovered a Prothean life pod, very similar to the ones we saw on Ilos, but this one still had power and appeared to be operating normally. Presumably with a living Prothean still inside.” I stared at Shepard with wide eyes. “If she could be revived, Goddess knows what she could tell us. She might be able to provide us with insight about Admiral Hackett’s project.”
My bondmate nodded decisively. “Okay. Where is the pod now?”
“The colonial team didn’t have time to move the pod before Cerberus attacked. Cerberus brought it up to the surface and transferred it into a makeshift lab. They’re trying to determine how to open the pod without killing its occupant, reviewing Prothean data records recovered with the pod . . .” I turned to scan the surroundings, identified one building about a hundred meters away, on the other side of a short bridge. “Over there. That structure has been converted to a makeshift lab.”
“Heads up!” shouted Jack.
Three Cerberus shuttles roared out of the south, zooming low over our heads. Within moments they stopped, hovering over the lab facility I had just identified. They began to vomit soldiers, the flare of landing jets repeated a dozen, twenty, thirty times as Cerberus troops took up positions.
Shepard lost no time. By the time the Cerberus troops had deployed, so had we: Marines as far forward as we could manage without trying to cross the bridge, Garrus and Skavros just behind them with sniper rifles at the ready, the biotic cadre under cover in the rear. I ducked down in the center of the biotic students’ line, right beside Kahlee Sanders.
“Okay, you’ve done it under practice, now let’s see if you can do it under fire,” Jack shouted.
Gunfire began, rapidly rising to a low roar like a great sheet of canvas tearing from top to bottom. I heard Shepard issuing orders over the Marines’ comm channel.
“Prangley, Rodriguez, set it up. You’re the anchors. Put the edge of the dome about four, five meters ahead of the Marines. Ready?”
I counted Cerberus troops. They outnumbered us, perhaps two to one. Then I saw targeting lasers lash out from elevated positions in their line. “Snipers,” I reported over the Marine channel.
“I see them,” said Shepard.
“Time to play,” Garrus rumbled.
A dome of force snapped into existence i
n front of us, but it didn’t last long. Up, down, up again, it flickered and shimmered, evanescent as an idle daydream.
The Marines fired back, but Cerberus could put out more gunfire than our team could manage, and their snipers posed a terrible threat. I saw blue-white flashes in our line, as kinetic barriers deflected Cerberus fire. It seemed only a matter of time before we began to take casualties.
BOOM. Garrus fired. A Cerberus sniper staggered, fell from her nest atop a building across the bridge.
Shepard growled in frustration. I remembered his own proficiency with a sniper rifle, back before he died above Alchera. Cerberus had rebuilt him as a close-quarters fighter, his reflexes and biotic talents tuned to charge into the midst of the enemy line. Annoying, when the battle had to be fought at range.
“Come on, kids, synch up.” Jack muttered.
The young biotics struggled. They had trained for this, but only in simulations. Real combat presented its own challenges.
A strangled shout came from off to our left. One of the Marines had exposed himself for a moment too long. He went down, seriously wounded, his nearest teammate slapping the medi-gel tab on his armor.
The barrier flickered out again.
I closed my eyes. Reached out with my mind. Felt the play of gravity and dark energy around me.
The humans had more than enough power. They only lacked finesse, the fine control that only came with experience.
I raised my hands in a gesture of forbidding.
A little more power here, just a touch of destructive interference there to keep everything in synch . . .
“There!” Jack growled. “Feel what Blue’s doing. Right there! Match her!”
The barrier snapped back on. I could feel the young humans synching up with me, one after the other. Then Jack added her contribution, matching my own micro-adjustments with almost asari precision. I thought I recognized Samara’s touch in her work, doubtless the result of long hours of training on the Normandy staging deck.
