The Reaper War

by Cole Price

  “Damn. All right, keep searching. If you don’t see the councilor’s body, don’t count him out yet.”

  I eased the executor’s corpse aside and opened his desktop terminal. For once, we had some luck. The executor had been logged in when he died, and the Cerberus assassins hadn’t bothered to wipe his data. “Shepard, here it is. The executor met with the councilor no more than half an hour ago. They were still in talks when Cerberus attacked the building. The councilor may still be close by.”

  Then I realized Shepard was paying me no attention. Instead he and Garrus stared out the plate window overlooking the office block we had just fought through.

  “Found him!” said Shepard. “Looks unharmed.”

  I hurried across the office, looked down, saw Valern rising from his hiding place behind a desk.

  He must have been there the entire time. Probably hiding beneath a tactical cloak.

  Bailey’s voice: “Good job, Shepard. Now get him someplace safe!”

  Shepard nodded, gestured to the rest of us to go back downstairs.

  I nodded and turned to obey him. Then I heard gunfire, from just behind me.

  Shepard had pulled out his shotgun and blasted the plate window. I had only an instant to glimpse him leaping out, his armor still shedding glass shards, his biotic corona flaring to manage his mass.

  He saw something. The councilor must be under threat!

  “Goddess!” I shouted, and turned once more to sprint down the stairs after him. “Come on!”

  I heard Shepard’s voice, from down on the office block floor. “Don’t even think about it.”

  When I arrived, Garrus and Javik only a few steps behind me, I found a bizarre tableau.

  Shepard stood with his shotgun leveled, his biotics called up, tensely poised for action. Councilor Valern stood about two meters in front of my bondmate, his back to Shepard, his hands in the air.

  A third person stood about five meters away: human, male, skin of a pale brown color, shock of black hair tied back with a ribbon, strange cybernetic mask obscuring his eyes. He wore a suit of light armor with a long jacket, rather like my own outfit, but all in black and silver with the Cerberus logo on his breast. He had a sword slung on his back, but the main threat seemed to be a ball of biotic energy boiling in the palm of his right hand. He moved gracefully, keeping Valern between himself and Shepard, seemingly ready to unleash an attack at any moment.

  With a shock I finally recognized him, despite the enormous changes he had suffered since our last encounter.

  “You!” I whispered, and for a moment the sheer hatred in my voice surprised even me.

  Liselle T’Loak’s murderer. Gillian Grayson’s murderer.

  “Shepard!” Valern whispered. “He’s going to kill us all!”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  “I mean Udina! He’s working with Cerberus to stage a coup. He’s got the other councilors with him, to hand over to the Illusive Man!”

  Then Shepard glanced slightly to one side, seeing the three of us move up behind him. He made a grim smile.

  “Four to one, pal,” he observed. “It’s over.”

  Kai Leng smiled in return, like a predator in complete charge of the situation. “No. Now it’s fun.”

  Chapter 22 : Pursuit

  6 May 2186, C-Sec Headquarters/Citadel

  The ball of leashed energy in Kai Leng’s right hand scaled upward, glowing brighter, beginning to buzz.

  Shepard tried to move to the side, get a clear shot at the Cerberus assassin, but Councilor Valern still stood in the way.

  Valern raised his hands to shield his face, flinching, anticipating the attack that would shatter his bones and stamp out his life.

  Leng’s smile grew wider. He moved, quick as a striking serpent.

  His right hand had been holding our attention. Now his left flew to his waist, drew a wickedly sharp throwing knife, and cast it with lethal accuracy.

  Not at Councilor Valern.

  At me.

  Fortunately I had several years of practice with my biotics, under combat conditions. Before I even consciously recognized the threat, my mind reacted, slamming a biotic barrier into place.

  The barrier deflected the knife. Slightly. Just enough that it didn’t skewer my heart.

  It buried itself in my left shoulder instead.

  I felt surprisingly little pain, the assassin’s blade was so wickedly sharp. Instead I felt shock, at the sensation of a foreign object suddenly wedged in my flesh. I recoiled, a cry of surprise escaping my throat, but then I gritted my teeth and stayed on my feet.

  Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. The Cerberus assassin knew exactly where to strike, to do the most damage to his enemies.

  Nothing else could have distracted Shepard for even an instant. As the knife flew past his position, his cybernetic reflexes kicked in. He turned slightly and lashed out with his left hand, hoping to deflect the knife in flight, but he missed. At the sound of my cry of shock, his eyes left Leng and Valern, glancing over his shoulder in my direction with a sudden flash of mortal fear.

  In the instant Shepard stood off-balance, Leng struck.

  His right hand snapped slightly to the side, and the weapon in the palm of his hand finally discharged. The blast caught Javik in center of mass, sending him flying back over a row of desks.

  The assassin’s left hand reached behind his back, grasping the hilt of his sword. With a shout, he uncoiled into a running leap forward, the blade arcing back, ready to fly in an arc that would intersect Valern’s neck.

  Garrus fired his sniper rifle, but Leng’s attack caught him off-balance too, and for once he missed cleanly.

  Shepard realized what had happened. His head snapped back toward the enemy, and he began to spin his body and his shotgun in that direction.

  My memory of that instant is still crystal-clear, four hundred years later.

  Shepard had turned too far out of position. Even his enhanced muscles and reflexes couldn’t recover the mistake in time. Valern’s death seemed inevitable.

  Until three gunshots struck Leng, from above and behind our position.

  The assassin had a strong kinetic barrier up. The gunshots did no damage, but they rocked him back on his heels, destroyed his momentum.

  Then a new combatant appeared, leaping down from above, boots striking the floor with a solid thud, interposing himself between Valern and the assassin.

  Thane Krios.

  Leng lashed out with his right fist.

  Thane rolled with the blow, struck at the assassin’s body twice, two pile-driver blows so fast I could barely see them.

  The sword reversed, swept back with vicious speed.

  Thane leaped, almost two meters straight up in the air, the sword hissing through the space he had occupied a moment before.

  When the drell landed once more, he already had a heavy pistol out, firing rapidly.

  The assassin had already vanished behind a tactical cloak.

  Shepard recovered, and another quick glance in my direction assured him I wasn’t in immediate danger. He seized Councilor Valern, forced the salarian off the field by brute strength. “Garrus!”

  The turian leaped forward, pushed Valern behind him, and drew his own pistol for close-quarters work.

  I yanked the knife out of my shoulder, suppressing a scream, and then put the wound out of my mind. My corona snapped into place, barrier up, telekinetic force ready to lash out as soon as I could see a target.

  Javik rose to his feet, looking slightly dazed but functional, his beam rifle at the ready.

  For a fearful moment, all of us scanned the room, looking for Leng.

  Then the assassin returned, his tactical cloak falling, his sword poised, already rushing into close-quarters range of Thane.

  The drell leaped up in the air again, throwing himself at Leng, his own biotic power surging blue-white around his right hand. His fist flashed forward, fast, so very fast.

  Leng mov
ed, just an instant faster.

  Twenty centimeters of the sword appeared, bright red with drell blood, projecting from Thane’s back.

  The Cerberus assassin recoiled, viciously whipping the blade back out of Thane’s body.

  The drell collapsed to the floor without a sound.

  Leng glanced in our direction.

  Shepard fired his shotgun at close range. The blast passed over Thane and caught Leng almost in center of mass.

  Once again the assassin’s barriers and armor took the blow, but this strike didn’t come from a precise, delicate pistol. This was Shepard’s Claymore, a gift from Urdnot Wrex, a weapon normally only fit for krogan. Leng’s barriers went down in a flash of light, and he staggered several meters backward.

  Shepard bellowed, a sound of inarticulate rage, and charged Leng.

  It wasn’t a vanguard’s flash-charge. It’s possible that for a moment, Shepard felt too much sheer anger to control his biotics so finely. It took him several seconds to cross the floor.

  Long enough for Kai Leng to recover his sword, leap to his feet, assess the situation, and run like a thief. He vaulted a low railing, leaping down to a causeway below.

  Shepard fired again, missed again, leaped in hot pursuit.

  Against my better judgment, I slapped the medi-gel tab on my jacket, leaned into a staggering run, and followed.

  “Liara!” Garrus objected.

  “Garrus,” I gasped, “guard the Councilor; get him back to James and Commander Bailey! And call for medical help for Thane!”

  “But . . .”

  “Do not argue, turian!” shouted Javik, falling in just behind me. “The assassin is getting away!”

  We ran.

  We reached the bottom of the causeway moments later. Just in time to see an air-car soar off into the Presidium’s false sky, Kai Leng standing at ease on its back, Shepard firing a sidearm uselessly after.

  “Damn it. Damn it!” he howled.

  Then he looked back at us, and behind us. He turned to run in our direction.

  Thane stood there, somehow on his feet and following us, his sidearm in his hand. Then his legs went loose and he fell back against the nearest wall, sliding down to a seated position.

  “Thane!” Shepard clattered to his knees beside the mortally injured drell.

  I bent close to examine the terrible wound. After a moment, I caught Shepard’s eye and shook my head slightly.

  The drell’s voice rasped, a horrible sound. “I have time. Don’t mind me. Catch him.”

  Bailey’s voice, over Shepard’s omni-tool: “Shepard? What’s going on up there?”

  “We stopped a Cerberus assassin from taking out Valern,” said Shepard. “I’ve left Garrus to guard the Councilor and bring him back to you. Thane needs medical help fast.”

  “Got it. I’ll make the call. Where’s the assassin?”

  “He got away. This time.”

  “Probably going after the rest of the Council.”

  “That’s my assessment too. Get the word out – Udina’s trying to seize power, with help from Cerberus. I’ll try to get to the other Councilors.”

  “My board shows they’re being taken to a shuttle pad for evac. Grab a car and start driving. I’ll try to raise them on the comm.”

  Shepard turned toward a blue C-Sec aircar sitting several meters away, but then he stopped and glanced back at us. “Liara?”

  “I’m fine. The medi-gel will hold me together,” I told him. “Come on. That nothos thug is getting away.”

  For a moment, Shepard appeared ready to argue with me, but then he jumped into the car and punched the starter button. I piled in front with him, while Javik slipped into the rear seat. Within moments, the car soared into the air.

  I took a moment to catch my breath and examine the wound in my shoulder. Medi-gel had sealed it and killed the pain, but I found a surprising amount of indigo blood soaking my jacket. I flexed the fingers of my left hand, and felt nothing more than a slight burning sensation.

  “You okay?” asked Shepard gently.

  “I’ve had worse. I’ve had worse recently.”

  “Rrrh,” said the Prothean in the back seat, but I thought I could hear a note of amused respect in it.

  I may not be much of a soldier, but I seem to be picking up Shepard’s habit of making light of wounds.

  “Shepard? I’ve got a fix on the Council’s position. I’m sending it to your car.”

  Shepard glanced down at the dashboard, saw a white dot blinking on a schematic of the Presidum. “Somewhere above Shalmar Plaza, I see. Good job, Bailey. We’re almost there.”

  A sudden shadow fell across the car’s canopy.

  Thump!

  Kai Leng abruptly appeared on our car, kneeling on the hood. He raised his head to stare through the windshield at us.

  Shepard reacted at once, applying the most deadly weapon at his disposal.

  The car.

  He put the vehicle into a steep climb, driving straight for one of the pedestrian walkways that connected buildings on opposite sides of the Presidium ring.

  I let out a small scream, expecting a collision at any moment.

  Leng glanced over his shoulder, saw the immediate problem, and threw himself into a headlong dive over our heads. I saw him draw his sword just before he vanished.

  We heard a solid thunk from behind us, somewhere in the vicinity of the engine compartment. Then the car flashed under the pedestrian walkway, no more than five or six centimeters of clearance to spare.

  “Uh-oh,” said Shepard, as red lights began to flash all across his panel. “Liara, take the controls for a moment.”

  “What?”

  He had already popped the top of the car open, his sidearm in his hand.

  I lunged for the controls, feeling a sharp pain in my injured shoulder.

  Shepard leaned out, half turned to face the rear of the vehicle, nothing but one hand’s grip on the door to prevent him from falling a hundred meters to the floor of the Presidium ring. At least he didn’t linger. A moment of staring out into empty space, and then he hauled himself back inside to take the controls once more.

  “Leng is damned quick, I’ll give him that,” he remarked. The car listed more and more to the left, alarms now beginning to blare. Shepard fought to keep us in the air.

  “What did he do to this vehicle?” Javik inquired.

  “All I could see was part of his sword, sticking up out of the engine compartment. He must have jammed the blade down into the engine block to short something out. All while he dove overboard to avoid being smashed into paste.”

  “A clever and determined adversary,” said the Prothean.

  “Hopefully a dead adversary,” Shepard said, gritting his teeth as something exploded behind us with a dull crash. “Although I won’t believe that until I see his corpse. Hang on!”

  The car went into its death-dive. Shepard did his best to flatten out our trajectory, aiming for a terrace on the left wall of the Presidium ring.

  Oh Goddess, here we go.

  I braced myself with both arms, steeling my mind for the collision.

  When it came, it felt exactly as bad as I had expected. The three of us rattled around in our seats like dice in a cup, accompanied by the sounds of tearing metal and shattering ceramic. When all motion stopped and I could take stock, I found myself alive. Also hurting. A lot.

  Shepard popped the top of the car and climbed out, staggering slightly. I groaned and followed him, then reached back into the car with my good hand to help Javik.

  “Shepard? My instruments say your car’s stopped.”

  I glanced around. We stood on a terrace, about thirty meters up on the left wall of the Presidium ring. Our section had just come under attack, and chaos roared on all sides. Civilians screamed and ran for cover. Some of them fell to Cerberus fire. A Cerberus shuttle soared down to our level, deploying troops onto the terrace in our path.

  All three of us moved for cover and prepared to fight
our way through.

  “Yeah, we’re on foot now,” Shepard reported as he checked his shotgun. “Any luck contacting the Council?”

  “Negative. Their guards are dead. I’m still showing positive vital signs on the transponders for Sparatus, Tevos, and Udina, worse luck.”

  Shepard gestured to Javik and me, ordering us to advance and take up new cover. “Are they still heading for the shuttle landing above Shalmar Plaza?”

  “That’s right. If Udina can get them within range of that assassin, this is all over.”

  “We’re not far from there. Facing resistance. We’ll move as fast as we can.”

  “Shepard!” I shouted, pointing ahead.

  Slim and female, wearing body-hugging armor, carrying a sword much like Kai Leng’s. Suddenly I remembered the female assassin who had almost killed me on Kahje. She charged us, nimbly dodging Javik’s weapons fire, protected by a rock-solid biotic barrier. As she approached, she disappeared behind a tactical cloak, although her invisibility didn’t quite measure up to Leng’s.

  Shepard brought his shotgun to bear, with commentary. “What” – CRASH – “is this sudden fascination” – CRASH – “that Cerberus has” – CRASH – “with edged weapons?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered, catching Javik’s eye to coordinate a dark-channel-and-warp combination on the onrushing swordswoman. “That’s a monowire blade. Very dangerous, even against heavy armor.”

  Our combined biotic attack blasted the woman’s barrier into oblivion, tearing down her cloak, rocking her back on her heels, and disrupting her ability to dodge. Shepard’s next shotgun blast tore her to shreds.

  We advanced. There was a lot of gunfire in the air, and Cerberus didn’t cluster close enough together for Shepard to risk exposing himself for a vanguard’s charge. So instead he moved swiftly from one point of cover to the next, blasting away with his shotgun, while Javik and I harassed the enemy with gunfire and biotics.

  We prepared to move into the next section of the terrace. Suddenly, Shepard back-pedaled desperately into cover. I saw two more slim female figures with swords, charging us with the quick agility of dancers.

  “Or maybe someone in Cerberus has a catsuit-and-sword fetish,” I said in disgust, rapid-firing warps at the oncoming assassins.