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The Reaper War

Page 54

by Cole Price


  “Over here,” said Javik, his light pointing down at the floor from a short distance away.

  We gathered around an asari corpse, looking rather small and pathetic huddled on the floor.

  “Commando,” observed Garrus. “Pretty badly torn up.”

  “There are more,” Javik reported, moving his light off to one side.

  Larger shapes, lumpy with tumorous growths, mottled red and black. I shuddered in revulsion. “Cannibals.”

  “It appears she took some of the enemy with her,” said the Prothean.

  “Liara, give me a reality check here,” Ashley commanded.

  “Certainly.”

  “Dead asari commandos. Dead Reaper troops. Where are the ardat-yakshi?”

  “I don’t know. The population of this monastery should be well over a hundred. If a Reaper attack caught them, we should have found some of them by now.”

  “Any chance they managed to evacuate?”

  I shook my head. “Where would they go? Those in charge of this place would be sworn to die before permitting any of their charges to leave.”

  She tossed her head, getting her hair out of the way so she could give me a direct brown-eyed stare. “Liara, just what is it about these ardat-yakshi that has your people so scared?”

  “I don’t know if you read Shepard’s report about Morinth . . .”

  “Yeah, I did. I was under the impression she went down easily enough.”

  “Ashley, she faced Shepard, assisted by one of the most powerful warriors the asari people have ever produced, and there still wasn’t anything easy about it. When Vara and I fought Morinth on Illium, we had every advantage and yet she very nearly killed us both. That was one ardat-yakshi, still relatively young. Ardat-yakshi who kill can rack up astronomical body counts.”

  “Hmm. And dozens of them lived here.” Ashley’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Liara, what happens when you take an ardat-yakshi, even one who hasn’t killed anyone yet, and turn her into an indoctrinated Reaper creature?”

  I saw it then. “That must be where banshees come from.”

  “Dios,” muttered James. “Now we know why the Reapers targeted this place.”

  We moved through more rooms, better lit, but still empty save for the occasional asari or Reaper corpse. We found many more Reapers than commandos. Clearly the asari had fought a very effective running battle before meeting their fate.

  Before long we heard sounds of combat up ahead: small-arms fire, the deeper bark of Reaper weapons, and the low thrum of biotic feats. We hurried.

  Silence fell once again as we approached a large set of double doors. Ashley opened them, and we moved out onto a wide balcony, moving slowly and silently.

  “You may approach,” said a cool asari voice from ahead and below us. “There is nothing to fear for the moment.”

  Ashley lowered her weapon slightly and stalked forward, looking down from the balcony into a grand gallery below. I hurried to stand at her side.

  Below us, I saw a battlefield. Close to a dozen cannibals sprawled in death on all sides. In their midst stood a tall, elegant figure, wearing form-fitting battle dress in crimson and gold. She glanced up and took all of us in, with smoky silver eyes that never lost a certain cold serenity.

  “Justicar Samara!” I called.

  “Dr. T’Soni. And young Vara T’Rathis as well. I am pleased.”

  “This is Samara?” asked Ashley, keen interest in her voice.

  “Yes.” I turned to make introductions. “Honored justicar, you already know Garrus Vakarian. This is Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams, Alliance Navy, also an officer of Citadel Special Tactics and Reconnaissance. Lieutenant James Vega. Javik.”

  Ashley, James, and Garrus all nodded and murmured greetings. Javik turned away in silence, still tense, his eyes searching the shadows to either side.

  “If I may ask, where is Commander Shepard?” Samara’s voice might have carried just a hint of concern.

  “He’s fine as far as we know,” Ashley answered. “He’s on detached duty at the moment. We hope to see him again in a few days. I’m temporarily in command of Normandy. What’s the situation here?”

  “As you see. First the Reapers came, then the huntresses. When all was over, the Reapers had been badly hurt, but it appears they remain in control of this place.”

  “They’re trying to capture the ardat-yakshi, aren’t they?”

  “It would seem they have succeeded. So far I have found no survivors.”

  “Ma’am, what brings you here? Were you sent to finish the High Command’s mission?”

  “No. I suspect that is your task, Commander. I have other objectives.”

  “Rila and Falere are here?” I asked gently.

  For the first time, a shadow seemed to cross Samara’s face, take up residence in her eyes. “Yes. I have not yet found them.”

  Ashley shot me a questioning glance.

  “Her daughters,” I murmured. “Morinth’s sisters.”

  She scowled, nodded in understanding as she turned back to Samara. “Ma’am, let’s work this problem together. We’ll give you any assistance we can.”

  “That would be most welcome.” Samara glanced sharply to her side, and then we all heard the sound of more Reaper troops approaching. “We’re out of time. The center of this evil is in the Great Hall. That is where I must go. Meet me there if you can.”

  Then she left us, striding away to meet whatever stood between her and her remaining children.

  We had to take a different route into the heart of the monastery, out to cross a great courtyard and then through a meditation garden. There the banshees met us, two in the courtyard, two in the garden, each pair supported by a squad of cannibals.

  Ashley had never encountered the once-asari monsters before, but she had diligently read every after-action report available from the Alliance and the Spectres. When the first monster screamed a challenge and began its slow, inexorable advance, she wasted no time.

  “Take cover!” she barked. “Vega, you and I get to deal with the cannibals. Everyone else, focus on the banshee on the right, then the left. Do what you do best.”

  It turned out to be a very good strategy. The human soldiers could keep twisted batarians at bay with ease, but they lacked any special advantage against banshees. Javik, Vara, and I laid down weapons fire, but our most effective attack was a string of biotic feats. We hurled detonation after detonation against the monsters’ barriers, slowly wearing them away.

  Garrus settled into position, sighted in his sniper rifle, and fired.

  Then he grunted in chagrin. I don’t think he expected his target to take a perfect head-shot, then turn to stare at him, showing nothing more than mild annoyance.

  He didn’t hesitate for long, sighted in once more and began to fire as quickly as the weapon was capable. Boom. Boom. Boom.

  “Sweet Goddess, I hate these things,” muttered Vara.

  “Do not hesitate, asari.” Javik continued to lay down fire against the closest monster. “The Reapers use us to create their soldiers for a reason. They hope to use your fear and revulsion against you. Do not permit them.”

  Vara set her jaw in determination, and threw another bolt of telekinetic force down-range.

  The first banshee went down, dissolving into putrid ashes before it could attack any of us directly.

  Unfortunately, that left the second one unhurt, and much too close.

  “Scatter!” shouted Ashley. “Wolf-pack it!”

  James rolled to the side, moving fast for all his bulk, escaping the thing’s biotic aura and its vicious talons. Just in time, as it howled and produced a vicious nova-field to smash everything within several meters.

  Then everything we had rained down upon it all at once: biotic detonations, grenades, and a hail of gunfire.

  It crouched in the midst of the storm, brandishing its talons once more and screaming hate in our faces. Then something failed. Its barriers crashed, leaving its warped flesh exp
osed. Even a powerful Reaper creature could not survive such an onslaught for long.

  “Is it just me, or are those banshees even tougher than usual?” mused Garrus.

  “I don’t think it’s just you,” said Ashley. “We’re close to the source.”

  Inside the monastery once more, we faced another pair of banshees, but now experience backed our tactics. We dealt with the enemy and pressed forward.

  Still no dead ardat-yakshi, only asari commandos and dead Reapers.

  Unless, of course, some of the inmates had already been converted into the monsters we fought.

  “These ardat-yakshi are an abomination,” said Javik after a time. “Our Empire would never have permitted such monsters to live.”

  I glared at him for a moment, for once unwilling to tolerate his cruel cynicism. “Didn’t care for the competition?”

  Four hot yellow eyes stared at me. “Rrrh,” he spat, and turned away.

  Ashley caught my gaze, gave me a disapproving stare. I shrugged and fell silent.

  * * *

  Finally we found another lift, this one operational. It took us to the Great Hall, at the heart of the monastery complex. We emerged to find the place clear for the time being, littered with Reaper corpses but with no active enemies present.

  Samara had gotten there before us, her body armor scuffed and even torn, as if she had met considerable resistance on the way. She stood at the far end of the Hall with two other asari, one huddled on the floor, the other bending low over her.

  “Rila? Why doesn’t she answer?”

  “I fear the Reapers have already taken Rila,” said Samara gently as we approached.

  Just then the asari on the floor stirred, scrambled awkwardly to her feet. Her eyes opened, pitch black, as if in the throes of a joining. Quick as a serpent, she lashed out to take the other asari by the throat. Her victim’s eyes went wide in terror, but she made no move to defend herself. Samara had to step in, strike the attacker with a flurry of blows, and knock her to the floor once more.

  “Why did she do that?” asked the stranger, one hand at her throat.

  “She does not know who you are, child. She is already in the process of becoming one of them.”

  “Justicar?” Ashley ventured.

  “Yes, Commander.” Samara turned, as coldly composed as ever. “I have found my daughters, as you see. Falere managed to conceal herself from the foe. When I found her, she revealed the Reapers had taken Rila. We followed her here.”

  Ashley thought hard for a moment. “Have you found any others?”

  “No. I fear these may be the last survivors.”

  “Then we had better get you out of here and blow this place.”

  “What?” The asari still standing turned toward us. I deduced this was Falere: an attractive matron in her fifth century, her face marked with dark dapples, wearing a conservative gown. “The commandos were here to destroy the monastery too. They didn’t give a damn about any of us.”

  “Falere,” said Samara, her voice reproving.

  The younger asari sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. They were right, given the logic of what we are. But none of us have turned into killers. We don’t deserve to just be murdered by our own people.”

  “No,” came another voice. “We’re past that point now.”

  The other asari rose from the floor once more, her hands to her temples, obviously suffering but in control of herself. This one seemed a true beauty, marked in white instead of her sister’s indigo dapples, her eyes huge and crystal-blue now that the Reaper’s influence had waned.

  “Rila?”

  “We should have died, all of us, rather than let ourselves be taken by those things.” Rila shuddered, in pain or revulsion or both. “How many more will they use us to kill, we who swore never to use violence even in our own defense?”

  “Rila, what is your assessment?” Samara watched her daughter, not without compassion. “Can you be saved?”

  “I don’t think so.” Rila stood tall and proud, staring back at her mother. “I can hear them in my mind, Mother. Their machines are in my blood. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “Then I will do what must be done.” Samara glanced at Ashley. “Commander, I ask that you get Falere to safety.”

  “What are you planning, ma’am?” Ashley said, already frowning, as if she knew she wouldn’t like the answer.

  “Rila and I will remain here. I will give you enough time to escape. Then I will complete the High Command’s mission.”

  Falere recoiled. “Mother, no!”

  “There is no other choice, child.” Samara stared at Falere. For the first time since I had known her, she permitted an emotion to show on her face: anguished love.

  “You are wrong, Mother.” Rila opened one hand, revealing a detonator. “The commandos planted their demolition charge just over there, right by the central pillar. It’s already armed. I’ll give you all as long as I can.”

  For some reason, Samara didn’t seem happy at this proposal. “Are you certain you will be able to complete the mission before they overpower you?”

  Rila actually laughed, a single bark of grim humor. “Of course not! But I’m your daughter. If anyone can keep control of her own mind long enough . . .”

  Samara only nodded, put her hand on Rila’s shoulder for a moment, and then turned back for the lift.

  “Move out,” Ashley commanded. When Falere screamed and began to struggle, Ashley nodded to James, who lifted the ardat-yakshi bodily and began to carry her along with us.

  Falere’s screams seemed to call up others. A single shrieking howl, than a second, then a whole chorus of the damned.

  We hurried.

  As we entered the lift, I glanced back. Rila stood slumped by a column, breathing hard, her eyes gone black as midnight, one hand cradling the detonator, the other upraised to maintain a biotic barrier. Banshees had surrounded her, and I realized with horror that many of them had once been her friends.

  Then the lift closed, Falere hammering on the unfeeling doors, and we could do nothing but flee.

  “Samara, where does this lift open out?” Ashley demanded.

  “It can take us down to the rear portico,” the justicar answered. “I do not see how we can get away quickly enough.”

  Ashley nodded curtly, opened a comm channel. “Cortez, get in the air now. We’re going to be leaving by the rear entrance.”

  “You got it, Commander. Secure and aweigh. We in a hurry?”

  “Let’s just say we’re one step ahead of a mushroom cloud.”

  “Oh dear. On my way.”

  Cortez turned out as good as his word. He located the rear portico and already hovered there when we emerged, all of us running as fast as we could, even Falere no longer making any attempt to linger. We clambered aboard, Ashley the last to make the leap. Cortez fled down the mountain slope, away from the doomed monastery, almost before the hatch closed.

  Seconds before an antimatter explosion erupted, blowing the top off the mountain and eradicating every trace of the Tēlistos Monastery from existence.

  * * *

  Samara seemed even more grimly silent than usual during our flight. Twenty kilometers away, well outside the blast radius, Cortez set the shuttle down in an isolated alpine valley. We stepped out into a forest clearing, all of us looking up to where a great plume of dust and debris towered against the night sky.

  Falere walked further than the rest of us, staring toward the wrecked monastery, tears streaming down her face. “Rila. We just left her to die!”

  Samara shook her head. “I am sorry, Falere. We could do nothing for Rila. At least she died well, resisting her enemies to the last.”

  “That’s no comfort.” Falere slumped, her shoulders hunched as she fought to contain her grief.

  “I suppose it is not. Which makes what I must do now all the more difficult.”

  Falere turned back, warned by something in Samara’s voice. “Mother?”

  Samara’s vo
ice fell utterly flat, under iron control. “Falere, the Code does not permit an ardat-yakshi to live outside the confines of the monastery.”

  Falere’s eyes went wide.

  Samara drew her sidearm, but she did not train it on her daughter. A perfectly controlled movement ended with the weapon resting against her right temple.

  It would have taken only an instant for Samara’s finger to tighten on the trigger.

  In that instant, Ashley acted.

  She didn’t hesitate, didn’t pause in shock or incomprehension. She began several steps away, but in the only moment she had, she moved. Quickly, silently, she stepped up behind Samara and seized the justicar’s weapon hand, pulling it away from the critical point with a smooth burst of strength.

  Samara could have hurled Ashley away with a thought. Instead, her eyes wide with anger, she simply demanded: “Let. Go.”

  “Can’t do that, ma’am,” said Ashley, holding her firmly.

  “I cannot kill my only remaining daughter!” Samara raged.

  “Then don’t. What’s so hard about that?”

  “The Code . . .”

  “You are operating under a false assumption, Mother.” Falere stepped forward to hold Samara’s gaze, dropping into an elegant formal asari dialect that served for statements of deepest truth. “I obey a Code of my own, which requires me to live as no threat to anyone.”

  “Falere?”

  “I do not need a monastery to live by that Code. I can remain here in the mountains, alone, as long as necessary.”

  Samara thought hard for a long moment. I could see it, the instant her logic led her to unexpected hope. She relaxed in Ashley’s grip, no longer poised to leap into her final battle. “Then the Code permits you to stay, as you are.”

  Ashley let go of Samara, carefully, ready to move again if she had to. “There’s plenty of survival gear in the shuttle. Shelter, ration packs, a water purification system. We can let you have that.”

  “Thank you, Commander,” said Falere.

  “It will not be easy to survive here, without the community,” the justicar pointed out.

  “Life as an ardat-yakshi is never easy,” said Falere, one last hint of resentment in her voice. Then she softened, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “Don’t worry about me, Mother. I will survive. And if the Reapers come back, they won’t take me alive.”

 

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