The Reaper War

by Cole Price

  “All true,” said Tevos, “and all beside the point. The Reapers are not on Thessia yet, and until they are, the Matriarchs will continue to view the universe through the filter of their own comfortable, long-established prejudices. Which makes them a threat to you. One which I hoped to deflect.”

  “By arresting me?”

  “By demonstrating that I, at least, could still control you. The Matriarchs trust me. They know who I am and what my motivations are. That is why I have had the opportunity to serve our people in this position for the past forty years and more.”

  “Now that Liara has avoided your symbolic gesture?” asked Shepard.

  “She will be lucky if she doesn’t have assassins on her trail within the week.” Tevos glared at my father. “You knew this would happen, if you withdrew from your overwatch position.”

  “I figured Liara could take care of herself,” said Aethyta complacently. “Which she can, especially as the Shadow Broker, with a Spectre for a bondmate. Anybody who tries for her is going to pull back a bloody stump. Besides, unlike those idiots back on Thessia, I know where the real threat is coming from. So do you.”

  “Yes.” Tevos leaned back and steepled her fingers. “That still leaves us with the problem of keeping Dr. T’Soni alive and in control of her network, so she may continue to aid in our defense.”

  “That does lead to another matter I think we need to discuss,” I said. “Councilor, one of the things I was very surprised to learn, after becoming the new Shadow Broker, is that you have known about the Reapers for some time. Since before the war against Saren and the geth.”

  Shepard stared at Tevos, his eyes suddenly alight with hostility.

  The Councilor sighed. “Yes. That’s true, although I knew almost nothing about them. Only that they existed.”

  “How?” demanded Shepard.

  “You are aware, of course, that we asari can be very good at conspiracy,” said Tevos, apparently dodging the question. “Matriarchs in particular develop great skill in the art. They are infinitely patient. They are willing to devise plans that require centuries to complete. They can take as long as they need to evaluate others for competence and trustworthiness. They have the power of mind to keep secrets, even from lovers and bondmates.”

  Shepard frowned. “Are you saying there’s a conspiracy among the Matriarchs?”

  “There are always conspiracies among the Matriarchs.” She looked down at her hands, where they rested on the top of her desk. “One cabal in particular is relevant here. I do not know the names of all those involved. I do not even know how many there are. Benezia was one of them. Thessala remains involved to this day.”

  I glanced at my father. “Did you know anything about this?”

  “No. Although like Tevos said, Nezzie certainly could have kept secrets from me.” A hint of resentment crept into Aethyta’s voice. “She could read me like a damn book, but there was always a dark corner in the back of her mind.”

  “You never tried to see what she was hiding?”

  “Never. Thought about it a few times. Tried not to think about it most of the time.”

  I reached out and patted her hand, where it rested on the arm of her chair. She took my hand for a moment and gave me a small, grateful smile.

  Shepard leaned forward to press the point. “So this cabal knows about the Reapers?”

  “Yes,” answered Tevos. “They have known something for a long time. At least three hundred years. That was when they first approached Councilor Niassa.”

  Aethyta frowned in confusion. “Three hundred years ago. That would have been about the time the quarians ran into trouble with the geth.”

  “Exactly so. You may remember that artificial intelligence was not so controversial then. Asari and salarian scientists had been experimenting with it for some time. A few synthetic beings even existed openly on the Citadel, with partial rights of citizenship. The cabal was very concerned over this. They warned Niassa that the spread of synthetic life might have disastrous consequences. It would signal to the Reapers that it was time to return and harvest all of us.”

  “That fits what we learned from Leviathan,” Shepard observed. “It told us about the Intelligence that uses the Reapers to carry out the extinction cycle. Its primary concern is to preserve organic life from being destroyed by its own synthetic creations. At least for a certain narrow definition of preservation.”

  “I have read your report, and I concur,” said Tevos. “Whatever evidence the cabal presented to Niassa, it seems to have convinced her. She began to lay the groundwork for future action. When the geth rose up against their quarian masters, she used the disaster to push her colleagues into extreme measures. Synthetics living in Citadel space were destroyed, and laws were passed making it illegal to carry out further research into AI.”

  Shepard rapped his knuckles on the arm of his own chair. “That’s all very interesting, but it begs the real question. How did these asari Matriarchs know about the Reapers?”

  “I don’t know,” said Tevos. “Niassa was not permitted to keep any of the cabal’s evidence for herself. Her successors were not read into the secret.”

  A sudden suspicion forced its way into my mind. “Councilor, just before the war began, I discovered that a great deal of Prothean data exists in the Thessian archives, sequestered under Matriarch’s Seal. I have not been able to gain access to that information. Someone has been systematically concealing it, for reasons I’ve never been able to determine.”

  “Do you believe these sequestered data contain references to the Reapers?”

  “It’s possible. At about the same time, I found evidence that some very late Prothean inscriptions do refer to the Reapers. Perhaps some earlier researcher made the same discovery.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Shepard objected. “Why would a bunch of Matriarchs come across a finding like that and just bury it? Out of self-preservation, if nothing else, you’d think they would shout it from the rooftops.”

  I shook my head in bewilderment. “It doesn’t make sense to me either. Councilor?”

  “I fear I have no insight for you.” Tevos frowned, apparently in deep thought. “Dr. T’Soni, are you sure of your reasoning? Is there any other way the cabal could have discovered the existence of the Reapers, and something of their nature and intentions as well?”

  “Possibly, although I do not see how.”

  “Let’s table that for the moment,” said Shepard. “Councilor, how did you come into contact with this cabal?”

  “As far as I know, they did not emerge again for centuries,” said Tevos. “The next time the cabal came to the Citadel, it was to confer with me in the aftermath of the Sidon incident. Benezia was one member of their delegation at that time.”

  Shepard and I exchanged a glance. We recognized the Councilor’s reference, and in fact we both knew several of the people involved.

  A little more than twenty years earlier, the planet Sidon had been home to an Alliance facility performing illegal AI research. David Anderson, then a lieutenant in the Alliance Navy, responded to a distress signal only to find the facility gutted. He discovered evidence attributing the damage to a Blue Suns raid, aided by treason from within. While investigating further, he met Kahlee Sanders and Saren Arterius, and worked with them to track down the traitor and his sponsors. They succeeded, but in the process Saren betrayed Anderson, tarnishing his reputation and preventing him from becoming the first human Spectre.

  “I’m not sure I understand,” said Shepard. “I can see the connection to AI research, but the Sidon facility never actually produced new AI, and the whole project ended after the Council threatened to impose sanctions. What concerned this cabal of Matriarchs so much that it decided to show its hand again?”

  “The Sidon facility had been performing research into something unusual,” said Tevos. “An artifact, said to predate the Protheans themselves.”

  “Goddess,” I breathed, seeing the implications. “They
found a Reaper artifact.”

  The Councilor nodded. “Your mother and her colleagues feared that the researchers had found a good deal more than that. The project’s leader was a human scientist, Dr. Shu Qian. His sponsor, a batarian entrepreneur named Edan Had’dah, apparently found this artifact deep inside the Terminus Systems, orbiting an uncharted world near the Perseus Veil. Had’dah and Qian were unable to bring it back to Sidon for direct study. It was apparently quite large.”

  “Do you suppose they found Sovereign itself?” Aethyta wondered.

  “In hindsight, it seems possible.” Tevos shrugged. “At the time, of course, none of us knew that Sovereign existed, what it was, or what its capabilities might be. None of that became clear until after the attack on Eden Prime. When the cabal consulted with me, they expressed grave concern that Had’dah and Qian had disturbed something very dangerous, and that their secrets had not died with them.”

  Shepard rubbed his chin with one hand, following the chain of implications. “Saren’s report claimed that Qian and Had’dah died in the fire that Anderson started. Of course, that was a lie all along. Saren started the fire. Suppose he got to Qian and Had’dah first, killed them himself, and recovered their data?”

  “We will doubtless never know the truth, but that seems a reasonable inference. Saren spent a great deal of time in the Terminus Systems in the years that followed. It seems likely that he went searching for the mysterious artifact. That he eventually found Sovereign and made an alliance with it.”

  “After which he ended up its helpless slave,” Shepard growled in disgust.

  “The rest of the story, we know,” said Aethyta.

  “Not quite.” I leaned back, frowning in deep thought for a moment. “I have often wondered why my mother chose to align herself with Saren.”

  “Ah, we already know that. Nezzie was big on trying to make alliances with big players from other species.”

  “True, but why Saren, in particular? The galaxy is full of powerful and dangerous individuals who might be susceptible to a Matriarch’s persuasion.”

  Shepard nodded, following my half-formed chain of logic. “She could have chosen anyone. Hell, she could have chosen the Illusive Man.”

  Aethyta snorted. “Wouldn’t that have changed things! You’re right. Nezzie must have had a reason to pick Saren.”

  “That reason being that the cabal already suspected Saren was interfering in things better left alone.” Tevos nodded. “It fits. When Benezia and her colleagues came to consult with me, they were extremely concerned about Saren. They wanted to know everything I could tell them about his activities and plans.”

  “Councilor, just when was this?” I asked.

  “Not quite twelve years ago.”

  “I see. My mother became his advisor two years after that.”

  “That is so.”

  “Goddess. If my mother knew about the Reapers, if she suspected that Saren was searching for their artifacts, why did she go anywhere near him?”

  Shepard frowned, concerned at the tension that had sent my voice up half an octave.

  Tevos watched me, a hint of compassion in her face. “Dr. T’Soni, please believe me, I do not know what your mother was thinking at the time. The cabal was very cautious in sharing information with me. They warned me of what might be coming. They did not reveal their private plans.”

  I shook my head wearily. “These Matriarchs have a great deal to answer for. It appears my mother bore even more responsibility than I believed for all that happened.”

  “It doesn’t sound as if she knew all that much about the Reapers,” Shepard said. “Only that they were out there, waiting to ambush us. It seems clear that she didn’t know anything about indoctrination.”

  “That would be consistent with the discussions the cabal had with me. The first I ever heard of the possibility of Reaper indoctrination was from your reports, during the war against Saren.”

  “Still.” I fought down a burning resentment, managed to keep it out of my face if not my voice. “She had to know she was walking very close to the fire. It’s a pity that so many others found themselves burned as a result.”

  Aethyta watched me, some nameless emotion twisting her face, but in the end she said nothing.

  “That leads me to another question, Councilor.” Shepard stared at Tevos, his eyes suddenly flinty. “It sounds as if you were convinced of the existence of the Reapers long before I first went to Eden Prime. Why the hell have you given me – and Liara, for that matter – so much grief over the past three years?”

  Tevos only watched him, her serenity barely disturbed.

  “You and your colleagues were nothing but dismissive and skeptical, the whole time we fought Saren. The moment I got killed, you swept everything we had learned under the rug. You outright lied to the galaxy about what Sovereign was and what it meant. You smeared Liara’s family name. You forced her to spend more than two years fighting to convince anyone that the Reapers existed. You refused to support Anderson. You left humanity twisting in the wind when the Collectors attacked. Right up to the day the Reapers assaulted Earth, you failed to lift a finger to prepare.” He took a deep breath, struggling to bring his anger under control. “I think you owe us some answers.”

  Tevos tilted her head back, giving Shepard an aristocratic stare. “I won’t deny that the Council has made a number of serious mistakes. Many of our decisions have proven to be drastically wrong in hindsight.”

  “Councilor, that is a vast understatement.”

  “Still, every step in the path made sense at the time.” She shook her head in regret. “When you first came before the Council, I had good reason to take your assertions seriously. When you first mentioned the Reapers, my heart stopped for a moment. Yet you had nothing I could use to convince my colleagues. A vision, without a scrap of objective evidence? It was all I could do to prevent you and Captain Anderson from being laughed out of chambers. You may recall that while Sparatus and Valern dismissed you with contempt, I suggested that you go find proof.”

  Shepard opened his mouth to protest, reconsidered, closed it again.

  “When you presented proof, I used it to convince my colleagues to have Saren’s Spectre status rescinded. I outmaneuvered them to appoint you as humanity’s first Spectre, empowered to pursue and capture Saren. While you chased him, I kept my colleagues in check, always avoiding the two-to-one vote that would have ended your mission.

  “When you returned from Virmire, for once I could not prevent my colleagues from settling on a foolish strategy. I knew that Saren remained a danger, because I believed your warnings about the Reapers, but for that moment I could not act. Instead I manipulated Udina into placing the lockdown order on Normandy, knowing you could find a way to work around him.

  “Once Saren and Sovereign were defeated, you and Udina pressed us to admit humanity as the fourth Council species. You spoke very eloquently on the subject, as I recall, but it was I who convinced my colleagues to agree.

  “Afterward – largely on your recommendation, Commander – the Alliance named Captain Anderson to be the new councilor. This was a very foolish move on your part. I have great admiration for David as a soldier, a man of honor, even as a friend. As a diplomat he proved utterly useless. Udina would have been the better choice.”

  “Udina!” Shepard scoffed.

  “Yes, Commander, Udina. I knew him quite well. Three years ago, he was not desperate enough to do something foolish, such as allying himself with Cerberus. As a Councilor he would have been dishonest, unscrupulous, and effective. I might have been able to work with him to keep the other Councilors in check, mount a better response to the Collectors, and make more preparations against the Reapers.

  “Captain Anderson . . . I believe the human expression is bull in a china shop. He simply would not learn how to negotiate with Sparatus and Valern, how to maneuver around them to get what he needed. He refused advice from Udina. He never sought advice from me. Over and over again,
the Council came down two to one, Sparatus and Valern against Anderson, and the most I could do was abstain from some of the votes. Voting with Anderson would have been useless, as a deadlocked Council defaults to inaction. I did my best to encourage him from a distance, but that was all I could do to help humanity.”

  I glanced at Shepard. He no longer looked red with anger. Now he was pale and trembling, as if he had suffered a mortal insult. I reached out, brushed his hand with my fingertips, and sent my mind to caress the surface of his.

  Then I glared at Tevos.

  She had the good grace to look apologetic. “Commander, I’m aware that you and David are very close. Please believe me: I have nothing but admiration for him. It’s just that diplomacy, the art of practical politics, is not one of his many talents. In a way I was glad when he resigned and returned to military service. That is where he belongs. Where his soul is most at home.”

  Slowly, slowly, Shepard called himself back from the precipice. His face remained set and grim, but it regained some of its natural color. When he spoke, his voice was almost devoid of anger and contempt.

  Almost. Not quite.

  “I suppose you’re right, Councilor. A man of honor and integrity, such as David Anderson, certainly does not belong here.”

  I had a moment’s warning from our light mental link. I did not flinch.

  Tevos was not so fortunate. She lost control of that perfectly serene expression for a moment, her lips thinning in anger as the shot went home.

  Then she took a deep breath and simply willed it away.

  “Commander, despite appearances, I have been in your camp from the day you first appeared before me in chambers. Even so, I have made a great many mistakes. In hindsight, it is clear I could have done more, should have taken the risks necessary to do more. History will doubtless judge me and this Council very harshly, assuming any of us survive the days to come.”