by Cole Price
“True.” He gave me a sharp glance. “You wouldn’t wake me up just for that. What’s really bothering you?”
“I’ve lost contact with the Citadel.”
His eyes went wide with surprise.
“I have dozens of agents on the Citadel at any given time. You even know a few of them. Barla Von, the volus broker, for example. I communicated with several of them while I worked on the Udina problem. Until about fifteen minutes ago.”
“They’re not answering?”
“None of them. I placed a call to the Asari Embassy. No response. I placed a call to Councilor Tevos as the Shadow Broker. No response. Shepard, the Citadel has gone off the grid.”
“Do you think the Reapers have attacked?”
“I don’t know.” I took a deep breath, trying to banish fear. “The turians have diverted their Citadel fleet to fight the Reapers around Palaven. A lot of asari and salarian ships have also gone home to watch their borders. Even the human detachment is at minimum strength right now. The Citadel is vulnerable. I’m afraid someone has taken advantage.”
At once, Shepard swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself to his feet.
“EDI. Sound battle stations.”
* * *
6 May 2186, Widow System Space
Normandy dropped into normal geometry in the inbound lane for the Theta-4 relay.
Shepard and I stood together in the CIC, watching the holographic display. We had configured it to show a “tactical” display of the space around the Citadel, a volume about three light-seconds across. That sufficed to reach from the station itself, out to the irregular ring of mass relays that made the Widow System one of the galaxy’s great hubs of starship traffic.
The moment we disengaged from the relay, I expected icons to begin appearing in the display. To my surprise, space remained empty, except for the Theta mass arrays and the Citadel itself.
“Where is everybody?” Shepard muttered.
“No sign of the Citadel fleet,” said Joker from the cockpit. “Not even seeing any commercial traffic.”
“EDI, any radio chatter?”
“None, Commander.”
“This is damned odd.” Shepard folded his arms, staring at the holographic display as if preparing to intimidate it. “At least the Reapers aren’t here. If they attacked the Citadel, I think we would know by now.”
“What if it’s Cerberus?” I asked quietly.
Shepard shook his head decisively. “Not even the Illusive Man is that crazy. He made his play last month, and since them we’ve kicked him off every planet he attacked. Eden Prime, Sur’Kesh, Benning, Elysium, Tuchanka, Intai’sei, Terra Nova, Noveria – Cerberus has been shattered. Aside from the detachment operating out of Omega, they can’t have anything left to fight with.”
“I’m not so sure.” I moved to a console and worked with the controls. The galaxy map returned, with icons to display all the battles fought against Cerberus since their offensive began. Numbers appeared next to each icon: casualty estimates. “Cerberus has lost at least fifty thousand soldiers since the war began.”
“You’re proving my point, Liara.”
“Not really. Shepard, where did Cerberus get fifty thousand soldiers to begin with?”
That stopped him cold. He frowned in sudden thought.
“As of ten months ago, when the Lazarus Project revived you, Cerberus had a grand total of one hundred and fifty operatives, organized into a dozen or so cells. Over the next three months, while you fought the Collectors, they grew to perhaps five hundred operatives and starship crewmen. Project that rate of growth forward, assuming no losses, and Cerberus would have about nine thousand personnel today. Yet we have seen them deploy many times that number on the battlefield. How are they doing that?”
“The Shadow Broker doesn’t know?” he asked, just a hint of dry humor in his voice.
“I’m afraid not.” I gave him a challenging blue-eyed stare. “Shepard, if you can tell me where Cerberus got one army on short notice, and demonstrate that it was a unique event, I might be willing to agree that they couldn’t get another one.”
“You’ve got me there. And the timing is damn suspicious, given we already infer that Udina is up to something.” He raised his voice. “Joker, EDI, do you agree that there are no ships guarding the Citadel approaches?”
“Not unless they’re all stealth ships like us,” said Joker.
“I consider that unlikely,” said EDI.
“I concur. Joker, plot an FTL jump to get us down by the Citadel, best possible speed. Execute when ready.”
“Aye-aye, Commander.”
Less than a minute passed before a dull boom echoed through Normandy’s hull. That quickly, we flashed forward half a million kilometers into the Citadel’s inner navigation envelope.
Shepard opened a channel. “Alliance Control, this is SSV Normandy requesting clearance to dock.”
“Alliance Control, this is SSV Normandy. Are we cleared to descend?”
More silence.
“What the hell’s going on down there?” Joker complained. “Even if there were a station malfunction, they would have backups online.”
“Unless someone turned off the backups,” I suggested.
“Check the emergency channels,” Shepard ordered.
We waited for a few moments, while Normandy continued to accelerate toward the Citadel.
“Aha! Here we go. Commander, I’ve got a communication from Thane. You’ll want to hear this.”
“Put him through.”
A burst of static, then a rumbling drell voice: “Shepard. The Citadel is under attack. Cerberus troops are everywhere, and they’re in control of the docks.”
My bondmate caught my eye. I did my best not to wear an I-told-you-so expression.
“Are you safe?” he asked.
“No. I had to evade their commandos at the hospital. I’m holed up in a Presidium storefront.”
“Did Ashley make it out?”
“Yes, but we got separated. She said she had to move to protect the Council. I’m trying to get to C-Sec headquarters. It’s been compromised, and C-Sec’s ability to coordinate a defense has been crippled as a result. As long as Cerberus is holding the headquarters, they have the station.”
“All right. Joker, get us away from the docks and come in as close as you can to C-Sec. We’ll deploy in the shuttle. Liara, you’re with me.”
* * *
6 May 2186, C-Sec Headquarters/Citadel
Chaos overwhelmed the Presidium.
The habitat ring looked as bright and beautiful as ever, at least at first glance. Then I looked more closely, and saw signs of battle. Smoke poured out of shattered storefronts. Squads of Cerberus and Citadel Security troops exchanged gunfire. The transport lanes, normally busy at all hours, held nothing but empty air.
Dead civilians lay here and there, caught out on the promenades despite the early hour. Cerberus had made its usual murderous entrance. I hoped that most of the population had taken the hint, bunkering down at home.
The Kodiak was full: Shepard, James and his Marine detachment, Garrus, Javik, EDI’s mobile platform, and the Shadow Broker nervously checking her sidearm for the seventeenth time. Shepard caught my eye with a small, sympathetic smile, and I shrugged.
I’ve seen a hundred battlefields, but civil conflicts are always worse, somehow.
Cortez banked the shuttle hard, taking us between two buildings, a back-door approach to C-Sec Headquarters. Moments later we could see the landing stage we sought, awash with gunfire, a pitched battle already under way.
“Hot landing zone, Commander!” shouted Cortez.
“Everyone get ready,” Shepard commanded. “Out and into cover. Watch your fire discipline, there are friendlies on the ground and we don’t want to give them more problems than they already have.”
“Oo-rah,” came a grunted chorus from James and his men.
The hatch opened, and we rushed out into chaos.
A few C-Sec officers, all of them turians, held out desperately close to the edge of the landing stage. They almost opened fire on us the moment we deployed. Then they saw the Alliance blue of our shuttle, of the Marines’ battle-dress. Then they saw Garrus. Disaster passed us by, and Shepard could lead a flying wedge, smashing into the heart of the Cerberus formation.
“Holy shit, it’s Shepard!”
It was. Advancing by the numbers, alternating waves of Marines in heavy armor swept across the landing stage. Firing from cover, firing even while on the move, they cut through Cerberus ranks like a scythe through ripe grain. Meanwhile, Garrus set up in a sniper’s nest and began picking off Cerberus officers. Javik watched for Cerberus soldiers who tried to flank us, striking them down with his particle rifle. He and I also used our biotics to provide artillery support, detonating the targets Shepard “painted” for us.
Cerberus might have had sufficient numbers to defeat C-Sec and secure the landing stage. They didn’t have nearly enough on hand to stand up to Normandy. After a few very noisy minutes, we cleared the area and C-Sec’s survivors began to emerge from cover.
“Shepard!”
A C-Sec officer came out to meet us, a craggy-faced male human, walking carefully to favor a bloody wound in his side. I recognized him: Armando-Owen Bailey, a senior officer who had worked with Shepard on previous visits to the Citadel. He limped forward, his face pale and drawn, but his hand gripped Shepard’s strongly.
“You’ve got damn good timing, Shepard. Thought we were done for before you showed up.”
Shepard gave him a grim smile. “Good to see you in one piece, more or less. What are you doing down here? Thought your beat was up in the diplomatic district.”
“It is, but then Cerberus took Headquarters in their first push. I grabbed as many men as I could with our comms down, and came running to take the place back. Nearly got my ass shot off for my trouble.” He grunted with pain, one hand going to the thick pad of hardened medi-gel that held his left side together. “We’ve gotta kick them out of there. Everyone’s flying blind without the network.”
“How bad is the situation?” asked Garrus. “Do you know if the councilors are still alive?”
“They were, last I heard, but not all in the same place. That new Spectre, Williams, she went to try to pull ‘em together and keep ‘em safe. I’ll know more if I can get to a terminal inside.”
“Can you get us in?” asked Shepard.
Bailey grunted, turning away toward a nearby door. “If no one interrupts me with a bullet this time.”
The door opened. Shepard led us through.
Inside, we saw plenty of evidence of a bitter fight: furniture smashed and overturned, bullet holes in the walls, splashes of blood in several colors, corpses here and there. By far, most of the bodies belonged to C-Sec. Cerberus must have taken the police by almost complete surprise. On the other hand, we met no immediate opposition.
Soon we arrived in an office block. Bailey sat down at the first undamaged terminal he could find, tapping at it with easy competence. “Here we go. C-Sec network access, courtesy of Cerberus.”
“How is that going to help?” asked Shepard, commanding some of the Marines by gesture to secure a perimeter.
“Cerberus still has control of the main channels, but with this I can set up a new one. Without that, our people have no plan and no chance.” Bailey continued to work with the terminal for a few moments, and then his eyes flew wide with sudden surprise. “Hello!”
“What have you got?”
“A warning from Councilor Valern. Be on guard, the likelihood of betrayal from within is high.”
“Yeah, he contacted us yesterday. That’s why we came back to the Citadel in the first place.”
Bailey nodded. “Looks like Valern asked for an emergency meeting with the executor for this morning. Damn, he might be in the building right now.”
“Why would the councilor be meeting with the executor?”
“Usually that would mean someone big’s about to be prosecuted. Guess that someone had Cerberus friends.”
Shepard caught my eye and nodded. “Udina.”
“I know Valern mentioned him, but that’s insane,” said Garrus. “Does Udina even have this kind of pull?”
“Clearly he does. Besides, it doesn’t take much pull to go to a castle’s gate and throw it open for the enemy to march in,” I pointed out.
Bailey shrugged. “You know who would have the answer to that? The councilor.”
“One councilor’s better than zero,” said Shepard decisively. “Where am I headed?”
“He could be in the executor’s office,” said Garrus. “It’s a fairly defensible position.”
“All right. James, you and your team stay here, guard our extraction zone and help C-Sec secure the area. EDI, I want you to work with Bailey and try to push Cerberus back out of the C-Sec networks.”
James and EDI exchanged a glance, James in particular looking not at all happy, but then they nodded in obedient agreement.
“The rest of us are going to punch through anything else Cerberus has in the building, and try to reach the councilor in the executor’s office. Garrus, you know the way.”
The turian nodded, bringing his sniper rifle to the ready.
“Just a sec.” Bailey opened his omni-tool. “There. I set up an encrypted channel for all of us to use, so we can stay off the main network. Go!”
We went, Shepard and Garrus taking the lead, Javik and me following close behind. As we moved, Shepard opened a channel through his helmet comm. “Thane, what’s your status?”
The drell responded at once. “I’m nearing the building. Running is difficult. I’ll try to get to you.”
“He doesn’t sound good,” I murmured.
Shepard glanced back at me. “No. Ashley made friends with him in the hospital, and she’s been keeping me up to date. His condition has gotten a lot worse just in the last few weeks.”
Just then we encountered our first Cerberus, two troopers standing guard by a sealed door, and we had no more time for conversation.
Fighting our way through the building seemed tedious but not difficult. Cerberus troops had scattered to hold critical points, but they didn’t appear to have a large reaction force in reserve. We met them in small groups, fire-teams and squads, occasionally led by a heavily armored officer. Once in a while we also encountered a combat engineer, maintaining turrets to cover a critical position. These presented a little more challenge, pouring out bullets at such a rate that even Shepard hesitated to charge into the open. Garrus proved most useful there, directing overload charges to tear down the turrets’ shields and scramble their systems.
We found a great many corpses, most of them C-Sec officers, many of them clearly caught by surprise and shot in the back of the head.
“More traitors,” Shepard growled after finding one such.
“It reminds me of Mars,” I agreed. “One infiltration mech and the whole Archives facility went down.”
“Cerberus does love their infiltrators and sleeper agents,” said Garrus.
“I still want to know where Cerberus is getting all these soldiers,” said Shepard. “It’s as if they have a whole planet to draw on for recruits. How could they have hidden that?”
“Good question. Put it on the list,” said Garrus.
“It’s getting to be a very long list.”
We had some trouble getting to the upper levels of the building. Cerberus had locked down the lifts. Shepard had to blast open a control box, after which Garrus and I worked for several feverish minutes to bypass the locks.
“Any survivors in there?” called Bailey as we finished our work.
“None yet,” said Shepard. “We’re about to head to the upper levels.”
“Damn. C-Sec is going to have a hell of a time rebuilding after this. Keep looking.”
The lift let us out onto the administrative level. At once we were drenched, the fire-suppression system
s showering everything with slightly rancid water. Everything was silent, frighteningly so, as if nothing at all lived on this level.
Suddenly Garrus shouted: “Ridgefield! Lamont! You alive?”
No response.
“Could you perhaps not alert everyone?” I complained.
“If gunfire doesn’t put them on notice, I sure won’t,” said the turian, but he didn’t call out again.
A voice over a public-address system, frightened, tense, yet determined. Khalisah bint-Sinan al-Jilani, a human reporter who had come into conflict with Shepard on a few occasions. Now she responded to the Cerberus attack with journalist’s courage, reporting from a vantage point somewhere else on the station. While we listened to al-Jilani’s voice, we edged forward toward a large open space, an office block looking out over the Presidium.
“Executor’s office is just through there, and up a flight of stairs,” said Garrus quietly.
“Cerberus!” barked Javik.
We dove for cover as another Cerberus squad deployed into the office block from the opposite side.
Shepard had apparently lost his patience. He launched into a vanguard’s charge, smashing into the center of the enemy squad.
The rest of us followed, my heart leaping into my throat as I saw that some of the enemy remained on their feet.
Fortunately Shepard’s situational awareness remained superb. He rolled into cover behind a row of desks, calmly reloading his shotgun while more Cerberus troops dropped down on all sides from a gallery high above. Javik and I used our biotics to disrupt the enemy, preventing them from swarming Shepard while he prepared for his next move.
My bondmate popped up from cover, fired his shotgun twice to the right and left, turned on his heel, and then launched into another charge. This time he set off a nova-blast that scattered broken Cerberus troopers to all sides.
“Come on,” he said.
We climbed the stairs to the executor’s office. I triggered the door control, and the others executed a perfect room-covering starburst. To no avail. Nothing lived in the office, neither friend nor foe.
“Bailey,” called Shepard. “Looks like they got the executor and two salarian bodyguards. No sign of Councilor Valern.”
