The Reaper War

by Cole Price

  Hackett: “You’ll have it. This is now your top priority, Doctor. Find that thing.”

  “Hmm,” I mused. “It appears we were meant to be that assistance.”

  “It occurs to me that anything capable of killing a Reaper could do a lot of collateral damage.”

  “True.” I glanced at him. “On the other hand, your concerns about the Crucible don’t apply here. If this Leviathan is truly an enemy of the Reapers, we can be reasonably sure it doesn’t constitute a Reaper trap.”

  “We won’t know for sure unless we find it.”

  “I don’t see any more clues here, but Hadley did mention that one of Garret’s assistants sent back an artifact associated with Leviathan. Perhaps he knows more.”

  “There was an audio log.” Shepard looked around, saw a datapad sitting on a bench not far from the mysterious shimmering sphere in its case. “Here it is. Header data shows it comes from an A. Garneau.”

  “Bryson, this is Garneau. I’m sending you an artifact I found. Almost the only thing I found there, in fact. Maybe it’s nothing, but I’d swear Leviathan visited the place, even if it was a few million years ago. I’m going to crunch some numbers, burn up the rest of my travel allowance. Maybe I can project our Reaper-killer’s movements. I’ll check in when I get to the next site.”

  “Any sign as to where Garneau was when he sent that?”

  Shepard tapped at the datapad and shook his head. “No later messages, either. If Garneau found a new site to check out, he hasn’t called in yet to tell Dr. Bryson about it.”

  I sighed. “A dead end, then.”

  “Not necessarily. Let’s focus on what he did say.”

  “He mentioned extrapolating Leviathan’s path, from one planet to the next.”

  “And crunching numbers.” A gleam appeared in Shepard’s eye, one I could recognize: his mind hot on a trail of logic. “He wasn’t just flying blind. He had data.”

  A thought struck me. I crossed the room to the galaxy map, quickly finding the index file I suspected was there. “Here we go. Garret was maintaining a list of candidate star systems on this map.”

  I touched a control and bright points of light appeared, scattered across most of the galaxy.

  “Hmm,” Shepard grunted, scanning the map. “Twenty or so clusters. Even with Normandy it would take months to search all that. Can we narrow it down?”

  I looked around. “I assume this isn’t all irrelevant clutter. Garret kept these artifacts and data for a reason. Perhaps we can reconstruct some of what his project was doing.”

  “Okay. Let’s look around.”

  It took us about an hour to search through Garret’s lab, looking for clues. Shepard and I each had a triumph to report by the end of that time. I found a data archive tracking sightings of unusual aliens throughout the galaxy, “creatures” not known to have spaceflight capacity, yet seen on worlds many thousands of light-years apart. Shepard recovered one of Garret’s encryption keys, unlocking Alliance intelligence data on Reaper hunting patterns.

  Eventually we reconvened at the galaxy map, where each of us entered the data we had found. Most of the bright points on the map faded into obscurity, eliminated by one or the other of our filters.

  “Hmm,” said Shepard. “Three systems left.”

  “Perhaps we can do better than that. I noticed some samples of asteroidal material in the other room, carrying traces of element zero.”

  “Would Leviathan need eezo?”

  I shrugged. “If it travels interstellar distances, it must have some way to control its mass.”

  “All right, let’s roll that in.”

  One bright point remained. I worked with the console to zoom in on that region of the galaxy. “Caleston Rift cluster. It’s the Aysur star system.”

  Shepard keyed his omni-tool. “EDI, call everyone back to the ship. Register a flight plan with departure at 1200 today, and use my Spectre codes to get traffic control priority. Tell Joker to set a course for the Caleston Rift.”

  “Acknowledged, Commander.”

  Shepard gave me a sharp-edged grin. “Let’s go find this Garneau.”

  * * *

  8 May 2186, Interstellar Space

  One thing about Shepard: he did not need to be happy to be a passionate lover. I considered that just as well. During the Reaper War, he rarely had much occasion to be happy.

  In all the time I bonded with him, he rarely lacked a healthy interest in sex. When he did, it usually happened after some grave setback, or even after a clear victory that he believed to be too costly. For example, we didn’t make love at all for almost a month after the bitterly expensive victory at Bahak. Sorrow and remorse did not coexist gracefully in his mind with erotic passion. At such times I learned to simply be there for him, a friend and a sounding board, and that was enough.

  Give Shepard a plan, though – an objective, a clear path to pursue it, some hope for a clean victory at the end – and his eros blazed into a fierce flame. Since it was at such times that the traits I most admired shone forth in him – his courage, determination, strength of will, sharp intelligence – then mine usually kindled in response.

  The night we set out on quest for the Leviathan was one example. Goddess, I’m surprised the entire ship didn’t ring like a bell.

  Afterward we lay in a tangle of arms and legs, both of us still breathing hard and drenched with sweat, too overcome to speak, our minds still almost fully merged.

  Then I saw it again.

  Yes/Yes.

  Goddess. Do you see it? There.

  I felt his mind “turn,” looking deep within, like the profound introspection that sometimes comes during meditative practice.

  What is it/What is it?

  An echo in his thoughts. Like the sound of a voice calling out in a deep cavern, and hearing something respond from the far side.

  There! Don’t you see it?

  A growing sense of wonder, mixed with a dash of fear. I do see it/I do see it. Strange/Strange.

  What could be causing this?

  I saw a sudden image, welling up from very deep in his subconscious. Shepard, and yet not Shepard, the beloved face half-replaced by tarnished steel, the powerful body full of foreign mechanism. His eyes burned a hostile red, his cheek seamed with scars, and the scars themselves glowed.

  It’s inside me/It’s inside me!

  Fear surged in his mind. He began to struggle.

  My eyes flew open. His body trembled in my arms, and then began to thrash, his movements random and uncoordinated. A full-blown seizure.

  He stared at me wildly, and then his eyes rolled back in his head. Suddenly he went utterly limp. I checked his airway, saw he was still breathing, but otherwise I found him completely unresponsive.

  “Oh Goddess. Dr. Chakwas! EDI, call Dr. Chakwas!”

  Chapter 25 : No Hiding Place

  8 May 2186, Interstellar Space

  Shepard remained unconscious for about an hour, long enough for Dr. Chakwas to move him to the medical bay and perform an extensive set of tests. Thus, by the time he awoke, she had at least the beginning of some answers for us.

  “This is your brain, Commander.”

  Shepard sat propped up in a medical bed, looking tired but alert. I sat on a raised stool beside him, leaning close and holding his hand as desperately as a lifeline. Both of us watched the holographic display Karin had set up above his bed, with careful attention.

  “As you can see – well, as you could see if you had training in human neurophysiology – your brain is entirely normal in appearance. I can find no evidence of significant malformation or injury.” She peered at us, with concern in her silver eyes. “Which is really quite impossible.”

  Shepard frowned. “I don’t follow, Doctor.”

  “Commander, I’ve seen reports of the condition of . . . Let’s not mince words. Your corpse. One of the Blue Suns who initially recovered it from Alchera carried out a non-invasive but very thorough examination. After Dr. T’Soni reco
vered it from the Shadow Broker’s men, she also made a more superficial examination.”

  I remembered, and shuddered slightly in revulsion. Shepard glanced at me, concerned, but said nothing.

  “There’s no way to sugar-coat this, Commander. You were dead. Your brain was relatively intact, compared to the rest of your body, but that is saying very little. Cerberus had to rebuild most of your body and brain from scratch. That’s the only way they could both be here, now, in such robust health.”

  “So what you’re saying is: I’m not the same William Shepard who went down over Alchera. Physically, at least.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Karin rested a hand on his forearm. “That man is dead. Physically, you are a new human being who resembles him very closely. Something like an identical twin.”

  “But I remember being him.” Shepard’s hand tightened on mine. “Liara thinks I’m the same. I feel the same.”

  “That’s entirely possible. Your personality, your self-image, your memory, all of those things appear to have made the transition intact. We’re talking about a question of identity, perhaps even a question of your soul. I’m not qualified to advise you on that. You need a philosopher, or a teacher in your religious tradition.”

  “All right.” I could still feel tension in his hand, but his voice remained completely steady. “So what’s going wrong in my brain, which you say is in such good shape?”

  “Actually, I’m not sure anything is going wrong in your organic brain. It’s the additional machinery Cerberus put in place that concerns me.” The doctor touched her omni-tool, and shapes inside the three-dimensional image of Shepard’s brain became highlighted. “Your body is full of implants, Commander. Skin, muscle, and bone weaves. Nanotech filters in your liver and kidneys. More filters in your lungs. Pacemakers to push your heart and lungs well beyond the human norm. It’s no surprise to find mechanisms in your central nervous system as well.”

  I pointed into the hologram. “There. A biotic amp, and it looks like asari make. I think I even recognize the model. Armali Council.”

  “Wait a minute. Didn’t you tell me you inherited a stake in the Armali Council from your mother?” Shepard snorted in amusement. “I’ll bet you made a nice little bit of profit when Cerberus turned me into a biotic.”

  “It’s a small galaxy,” I said defensively.

  “You’re both right. It’s a biotic amp, definitely of asari origin, more advanced than anything I’ve seen before. No wonder your newfound talents are so effective, Commander.” Karin touched her omni-tool, and the image of the biotic amp faded out.

  “I might recognize that piece,” said Shepard, pointing hesitantly at another shape. “If I remember my high-school anatomy, that’s the brain stem. I’ve heard of high-end gene mods needing an implant there to help regulate autonomic nerve impulses.”

  “Good catch, Commander. This implant is also more advanced than most, but I believe that is exactly its function.” Karin made that shape fade away as well. “Now look here, and here. Implants in the eyes and along the optic nerve, more implants in the inner ear. Improved vision and image processing, improved hearing, improved balance.” More shapes faded away.

  One shape remained, a small cylinder tucked in along the underside of Shepard’s brain.

  “What is that?” I whispered.

  “When you figure that out, please be sure to tell me.”

  “You don’t have any ideas?” Shepard demanded.

  “Its position is interesting,” said Karin judiciously. “Micro-scans reveal a whole network of filaments reaching into nearby regions of your brain: the amygdala, hippocampus, entorhinal and perirhinal cortices. All regions having to do with emotional responses, learning, and memory.”

  Shepard turned pale. “I will be damned. Those Cerberus bastards put a control chip in my head.”

  “No,” I murmured, and surprised myself in doing it.

  “Liara?”

  “That’s not what it is.” I followed the chain of logic once more, and it still seemed sound. “Shepard, last year you convinced a whole shipload of Cerberus personnel, including Miranda Lawson, to break with the Illusive Man. You destroyed a Collector base that the Illusive Man very much wanted to seize intact, walked away with the multi-billion-credit investments represented by your body and this ship, and returned to the Alliance. If this implant is a control chip, it is the most ineffective piece of Cerberus technology I’ve ever seen.”

  Shepard stared at me, blinking, and then broke into a chuckle. “You have a point. Sorry. That’s been a concern of mine, ever since I woke up on Lazarus Station.”

  “Quite understandable, Commander.” Karin expanded the display, zooming in on the image of the mysterious implant. “To be honest, I’m not certain a so-called ‘control chip’ is even possible in the sense you mean. I suspect this device is like most of the others Cerberus implanted in you during your reconstruction. Perhaps it’s designed to support your natural functions in some way.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know that yet, but I intend to find out.”

  Shepard glanced at me, and I knew what he was thinking.

  “The network has already been looking for Miranda,” I told him. “She has gone deep underground, and for good reason. The Illusive Man has put an impressive price on her head.”

  “Do what you can. I can’t function if I can’t trust my own mind.”

  “There’s one more thing,” said Karin. “When we brought you in an hour ago, this implant was active. Since then it’s become dormant once again, and now I’m seeing no sign of activity at all.”

  I immediately caught Shepard’s gaze, reached out to touch his face with my other hand, and closed my eyes. The border between our minds began to blur. I looked deep, and saw nothing out of the ordinary. No unusual imagery, no apparent echo in his thoughts. He seemed lucid and whole once more.

  I broke the link, opened my eyes, and shook my head. “He’s fine. I don’t see any sign of it now.”

  The doctor nodded, as if her suspicion had been confirmed. “All right. I recommend that the two of you be cautious for the next few days.”

  Shepard snorted. “What she means is no sex,” he whispered to me as an aside.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” said Karin. “In fact, I would encourage Liara to stay close by and make at least a shallow link with you from time to time, to see whether this echoing phenomenon recurs. We may have a good idea that this implant is implicated, but we still don’t know what’s triggering it, or what caused it to react so violently this time.”

  “I understand,” I told her. “If I see the phenomenon again . . .”

  “We come down here for another round of tests,” said Shepard. “So long as it doesn’t interfere with mission, doctor, I think we can do that.”

  “Unless our joining is what’s causing these attacks,” I pointed out.

  Karin looked skeptical. “I don’t think you need to worry about that. You and the Commander have been intimate frequently since your marriage last year, but you’ve only noticed this phenomenon in the past few days. It seems reasonable to guess that some other cause has recently appeared. Just be careful.”

  “Hmm.” Shepard swung his legs over the side of the bed and prepared to get down. “No promises, Doctor. You may have noticed there’s a war on. Am I cleared for duty?”

  “I see no medical reason to refuse. Good night, Commander.”

  We returned to his cabin, where I sent a message out through the Shadow Broker’s network.

  Alpha priority: find Miranda Lawson. She is to contact Operative T’Soni, as soon as possible and without regard to risk. All measures short of lethal force are authorized.

  * * *

  10 May 2186, T-GES Mineral Works Facility/Mahavid

  We first attempted to find Dr. Alexandre Garneau on the inhabited moon Arvuna. In the end, we didn’t even have to land. Shepard contacted the colonial government, learning that Garneau had been t
here only days before. Apparently the scientist had immediately taken a shuttle out to the nearby Nahata asteroid belt.

  “What’s this place we’re heading for?” asked Shepard, once our own shuttle departed Normandy.

  “T-GES Mineral Works,” said Cortez, never taking his eyes from his control panels. “They supply tungsten to the Arvuna colony, with some shipping out into the wider galaxy.”

  “This seems an unlikely place for this Leviathan to hide,” said Javik. “Why would Garneau believe he could find traces here?”

  “Hard to say.” Shepard cocked his head at the Prothean in curiosity. “Did your people know anything about this thing we’re searching for?”

  “No.” Javik’s eyes narrowed as he thought. “We knew little about the galaxy’s deep history, a billion years or more into the past. We found traces of many prior civilizations, all gone. A few scraps of legend. It was enough to deduce the existence of the extinction cycle, but little else.”

  “Picking up Reaper signatures from elsewhere in the asteroid field,” Cortez reported. “No large platforms, just small detachments. Maybe scouting parties.”

  Shepard nodded. “Bryson said they were shadowing his field teams. If they’re looking for Leviathan too, then Reaper signatures might be a good sign.”

  “Well, there’s something you don’t hear every day,” murmured Cortez.

  “There’s the facility.” Shepard pointed to the looming mass of Mahavid ahead of us. I could see lights glimmering from the asteroid’s dark face. “Take us in, then stand by while we go in and get Garneau.”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  Shepard turned to me. “Before we get there, Liara, time for a check.”