by Cole Price
Shepard nodded, looking sympathetic. “I would have done the same.”
“I know. I suppose that’s the other reason I did it. What would Shepard do? Not that I’ve been able to make much difference so far,” she said bitterly.
“So what’s the situation?”
“It’s bad.” Tali tapped at her omni-tool, and a map sprang up in our holo-display. We saw the local neighborhood, a section of the galaxy’s Outer Arm, out to about five thousand light-years from Rannoch. Red dots scattered across the field, indicating major geth installations and industrial facilities. Four of these, among the brightest, acquired bright blue circles. “It started seventeen days ago, with time-on-target strikes against four geth systems. Xen’s technique worked perfectly. We destroyed comm centers, factories, shipyards, millions of individual geth platforms. As soon as we had secured our flanks, the Fleet concentrated and moved on Tikkun.”
“Sounds like you were off to a good start,” said Shepard cautiously. I knew he felt concern for both sides in this conflict, the geth as well as Tali’s people. “What happened next?”
“For a while, everything seemed to go well. Xen’s technique continued to work. The geth fleet withdrew to the outer system and left almost everything open to us. We found the scaffolding for some enormous construction project in interplanetary space. . .”
“A Dyson sphere,” said Garrus. “Legion mentioned that the geth wanted to build one to house all of their runtimes in close proximity, to create the ultimate hive mind. It called the idea their future.”
“Well, we smashed their future,” said Tali, her voice flat. “That may have been a mistake.”
“How did they react?” asked Shepard.
“Several hours ago, their fleet came back in and engaged us. Xen’s technique no longer worked. Worse, the geth showed unusual levels of tactical coordination. Suddenly they have the advantage, and they press it ruthlessly.”
“Spirits,” muttered Garrus. “Tali, that sounds horribly familiar.”
“Yes.” The quarian tapped at her omni-tool again, and the map zoomed in, showing us a tactical plot of the situation in the Tikkun system.
My eyes widened. I had gained some experience in reading military situation maps over the past few years. If I was any judge . . .
The quarians have walked into a potential massacre.
“We’ve traced a change in geth command-and-control to this ship,” said Tali, zooming in once more to show us one icon in the middle of the ongoing battle. “A geth dreadnought, powerful, heavily armored and shielded. It’s transmitting a signal to the entire geth fleet.”
A signal-processing display appeared, tracing the dreadnought’s emissions over time: a tremendously dense and complex signal, running thousands of channels simultaneously.
“That’s a Reaper signal,” I said, very certain.
“I concur,” said Tali. “We pushed them too hard. We may have destroyed the geth heretics when we attacked their command station last year, but the main body of the geth must still have some way to contact the Reapers. They’re getting help, and my people are on the verge of a catastrophe as a result.”
Shepard shook his head wearily. “All right. We can talk later about the strategic implications of starting an irrelevant war, against a potential ally, after the Reapers have arrived and are already in the process of destroying galactic civilization. Preferably with the entire Admiralty Board here to listen to my remarks on the subject.”
Some spark of amusement altered Tali’s dejected body language, returned some of her old animation. “I would be glad to see that. I remember how much fun it was the last time I watched you shout at the admirals.”
“Too bad they didn’t listen. The question is, what can Normandy do now to get you out of this mess?”
Tali pointed into the display. “This dreadnought is the key. If we can use your stealth capabilities to get through the battle, infiltrate the ship, and shut down the Reaper command signal . . .”
“That takes the pressure off the quarian fleet. At which point you disengage, make for the nearest mass relay, and retreat.”
“I don’t know if Gerrel and Xen will show such good sense, but at least we can try.”
“All right.” Shepard keyed the internal comm. “Joker, EDI, take us to the Tikkun system as quickly as possible. Put us on high alert before we hit the mass relay. There’s probably a main fleet engagement going on between the quarians and the geth. Tali will give you a tactical assessment and targeting.”
“Got it, Commander. Time to be big damn heroes again.”
“So it would seem.”
“Whoa. We’re planning to go tippy-toe through a battle and sneak onto a geth dreadnought? Man, don’t the geth ever use visual sensors?”
Shepard chuckled. “No windows, remember? Structural weakness.”
“Yeah, like the geth are saying, ‘those organics would never be stupid enough to try the no-windows trick twice.’“
“Just take us in, Joker.”
“Aye-aye."
* * *
10 June 2186, Tikkun System Space
Normandy dropped into normal geometry, in the midst of utter chaos.
Quarian and geth fleets, maximally engaged, hammered at each other with every available weapon. They filled a billion cubic kilometers with projectiles and laser beams. Joker eased us into the midst of the storm, maneuvering with excruciating care. Somehow we threaded our way into the heart of the geth formation, without eating a missile from either side.
Shepard crossed a geth boarding tube despite its severe damage, reaching an access point just before most of the tube broke free and tumbled away into space. Then he opened a second airlock to admit Garrus and Tali, and the three of them proceeded on their mission.
I remained behind.
“I have something else for you to do, Liara.” Shepard had looked concerned, but also very firm. “We don’t have nearly enough information about the situation here. We didn’t even know that the quarians had kicked off this war until we got here.”
“I know.” I had glanced away, ashamed to be making excuses. “The quarians are very insular, and most of the ones willing to sell information are renegades, not worth the trouble. It’s always been difficult for the Shadow Broker to place informants in the Migrant Fleet. Even the yahg never managed to get much visibility into their community.”
“Well, you may not have informants, but as I recall you do have a few friends. You also have Traynor and EDI to call on, now that we’re in range of the Fleet’s comm channels. Get me some data to work with. I want to know what the quarians are thinking. Not just the admirals, but the ordinary people. I need to know if there’s any hope of prying them away from this crusade against the geth, and pointing them at the real enemy.”
So while Shepard and his friends made their way through a geth flagship, Samantha and I did intelligence work.
In fact, I had several quarian friends, former T’Soni Analytics employees who had returned home after their Pilgrimages. Unfortunately none of them could talk just then. All of them were highly skilled technicians, on combat duty during the battle. I inserted a few messages into quarian comm channels for Arin, Keetah, and a few others, but I didn’t expect any of them to respond until the quarian fleet had disengaged.
We had better luck with comm intercepts. The quarians used very good encryption, but they didn’t use it for every transmission. We could read thousands of low-priority messages, personal chatter among low-ranking quarians while they went about their business. With help from EDI, we quickly sorted the messages by their semantic content, and performed a variety of analytics to “take the temperature” of the quarian populace.
What we discovered dismayed me.
At that time, the quarian people organized themselves into four divisions, each under the control of one of the admirals. The Civilian Fleet was the largest division, centered on the three enormous liveships where most of the non-combatant population resided. P
atrol Fleet and Heavy Fleet served as a military arm, protecting the rest of the quarian population and projecting force as needed. Special Projects was the smallest division, dedicated to technical research and the acquisition of new ships.
Admiral Zaal’Koris vas Qwib Qwib led the Civilian Fleet. Once a political enemy of Tali’s father, since Rael’Zorah’s death he had softened toward Tali, and he had supported her appointment as an admiral. He had staunchly opposed the war, the only admiral to do so. Unfortunately war sentiment had been present, if not strong, even among the Civilian Fleet. Admiral Koris had been overruled in the Conclave, forced to commit himself to a war he did not want.
Admiral Shala’Raan vas Tonbay directed the Patrol Fleet, a close friend of Tali’s family, a political light-weight but widely respected for her wisdom and impartiality. She had been reluctant to begin the war against the geth, but she certainly had no love for the synthetics, and now that the war had begun she felt entirely committed to winning it.
Admiral Han’Gerrel vas Neema commanded the Heavy Fleet, the most powerful military force and the population most enthusiastic about retaking Rannoch from the geth. He had perhaps the simplest personality among the admirals: an attack beast, notorious for causing trouble on the fringes of Council space. He led the war party, dedicated to destroying the geth no matter the cost.
Admiral Daro’Xen vas Moreh oversaw Special Projects. My friend Arin had grown up aboard the Moreh under her command, and he had given me a clear picture of her personality: technically brilliant, cold, ruthless, and completely committed to destroying the geth. Although she had little patience for politics and tended to defer to Admiral Gerrel, she felt even more enthusiasm for the war.
Four admirals with significant political weight. We had to discount our friend Tali, too young and in office for too short a time to develop any influence. Two in favor of the war. One neutral, but willing to be swayed. A fourth staunchly opposed. Looking only at the admirals, the situation was clear: two to one in favor of war, and so war began.
Looking at the population, the picture seemed quite different.
The Civilian Fleet’s crew outnumbered the other three divisions put together. Most young quarians grew up aboard the liveships, only transferring out to the Patrol Fleet, the Heavy Fleet, or Special Projects once they completed their Pilgrimage and came of age. Many quarians remained in the Civilian Fleet all their lives. These stay-at-homes tended to conservatism, reluctant to support radical change or bold strategic maneuvers.
In fact, during the actual vote in Conclave, the Civilian Fleet had supported the war by about a five percent margin. Clearly even those conservative, non-combatant quarians hated the geth and wanted their homeworld back. Presented with a glowing picture of easy victory, they responded. At first, apparent success muted any objections. But in the last thirty hours, with the tide of battle turning decisively against them . . .
Samantha and I found evidence for a lot of angry quarians in the Civilian Fleet. If the Migrant Fleet as a whole survived this battle at all, there would be hard questions asked, and the possibility of an open schism.
* * *
Submerged in our work, Samantha and I barely noticed the battle around us. A surge of excited conversation put an end to that.
“EDI, what’s happening?” I asked.
“The geth dreadnought’s shields, engines, and attitude control have all gone offline, Doctor. Quite suddenly, in fact. It appears the Commander’s team has been successful.”
I keyed up a comm channel I had been ignoring for the past hour: quarian command-level chatter. I found I had little trouble distinguishing the voices. Aside from Tali, I had never met any of the quarian admirals, but I had Shepard’s memory of his encounter with them.
Shala’Raan: “The Reaper signal is offline. All ships, prepare to disengage.”
Han’Gerrel: “Belay that! We have to destroy that dreadnought while it’s vulnerable. Heavy Fleet, move to intercept and attack. Raan, I’ll need your ships to keep the fighters off our back.”
Shala’Raan: “Don’t be absurd. We must commit to escorting the liveships to safety. We agreed to a full disengagement if Shepard was successful.”
Han’Gerrel: “I didn’t agree to anything of the sort. To leave the geth alone, give them time to recover the Reaper signal? That’s what will truly put the liveships at risk. I’m moving in. Follow me.”
Shala’Raan: “Damn you, Gerrel!”
Angry human voices in the CIC. I looked at the tactical plot, and my heart leaped into my throat.
The Heavy Fleet was firing on the drifting geth dreadnought.
With Garrus, Tali, and Shepard still on board.
Shala’Raan: “Civilian Fleet, can you disengage without assistance?”
Silence, for a long moment.
Shala’Raan: “Civilian Fleet, do you copy?”
Then a new voice, not one of the admirals: “This is Kar’Danna vas Rayya. Admiral Koris led a counterattack to take some pressure off the liveships. His ship was badly damaged and has gone down on Rannoch. We have not yet been able to contact him.”
Shala’Raan: “Captain Danna, take temporary command of the Civilian Fleet. Get the liveships and your other colleagues to safety. Patrol Fleet will send a wing to assist.”
Han’Gerrel: “I need that support, Raan!”
Shala’Raan: “You need to cease fire on that dreadnought! Our allies and one of our admirals remain on board!”
I watched the tactical plot, one hand clenched so hard on the edge of the console that my joints ached.
The Heavy Fleet did not stand down.
Damn them. Damn them to the abyss!
Then another voice broke in, and I nearly collapsed in relief.
“Shepard to Normandy. We’re almost ready to evacuate.”
Ashley jabbed at her console. “That’s great news, Skipper. Where can we pick you up?”
“Negative. Don’t approach this ship, it’s about to go up in smoke. We’re evacuating aboard a geth fighter. Here’s the transponder code.”
I exchanged an incredulous glance with Samantha.
How is Shepard piloting a geth fighter?
“Roger that.” Ashley switched channels. “This is Commander Ashley Williams to all quarian ships. Our infiltration team will be leaving the geth dreadnought aboard a captured enemy fighter. I’m transmitting the transponder code now. All ships are advised not to target that fighter under any circumstances. Normandy is prepared to defend it with deadly force.”
Han’Gerrel: “You would fire on quarian ships?”
“To ensure the safety of our own people, once they’re clear of the valid military target? I would absolutely fire on any quarian ship careless enough to put them at risk.” Ashley’s voice became very cold. “If you doubt it, Admiral, I recommend you do not try me.”
Admiral Gerrel made no response. On the other hand, when we saw the tiny icon appear that represented Shepard’s fighter, no quarian ship made a move against it.
About eight seconds later, the dreadnought exploded. I gasped, but Shepard’s icon showed no signs of damage.
While he flew out toward our position, the geth fleet began a full retreat. The quarians followed suit, disengaging from the battle and going into a solar orbit a few million kilometers beyond that of Rannoch. Not even Gerrel’s ships tried to pursue the departing geth.
For my part, I didn’t relax until Normandy intercepted Shepard’s fighter and I could go down to see him. At which point I also saw how Shepard had managed to make his escape.
Goddess. This is going to be difficult to explain to the admirals.
Chapter 43 : Rannoch
11 June 2186, Tikkun System Space
Several hours of careful negotiations passed, before Shepard convinced the quarian admirals to meet aboard Normandy and discuss next steps. While Admirals Gerrel, Raan, Xen, and Zorah gathered in the War Room, Shepard took a call from Admiral Hackett. When he emerged, I bit my lip in chagrin.
/> There’s a storm gathering on his face. Bad news must have come from Earth. The admirals had better step carefully with him.
“Commander Shepard,” said Raan, the first to notice his presence. “Thank you for hosting this conference.”
Shepard stopped at the top of the stairs, looking down at the quarians. He said nothing for a long moment, only folded his arms and fixed a cold blue stare upon them.
“New Delhi,” he said at last.
Tali shook her head and looked down at the deck, her body language projecting dejection and shame. The other admirals only looked puzzled.
“I just received word, admirals. The Reapers have destroyed New Delhi.” Shepard took one step down, then two, moving closer to the quarians but keeping some of his advantage in height. “I don’t suppose any of you have heard of the place. It’s a city on Earth. Capital of the most populous nation-state we humans have. Last year, over thirty million people lived in the city’s extended metropolitan area. Thirty. Million. People.”
He stepped down onto the deck, finally putting himself on a level with the admirals. On the other hand, he stalked over to Admirals Gerrel and Xen in particular, leaning forward, pushing his grim face into their personal space.
“As of yesterday, New Delhi is so much rubble.” He glared back and forth between Gerrel and Xen. “Last year, I warned you that the Reapers were coming. I warned you that when they arrived, they would seek to destroy all of us. They would not distinguish between quarians and humans. They would not distinguish between quarians and geth. I nearly begged you to avoid a war that would only serve to distract all of us from the real enemy.”
“Shepard . . .” Admiral Gerrel began.
“I do not want to hear it, Admiral.” Shepard stepped closer yet, his face mere centimeters away from Gerrel’s visor. “You lost your homeworld three hundred years ago, and you’ve suffered for that ever since. I appreciate that. Under most circumstances, I would do everything in my power to assist you. I have done just that in the past. But I am losing my homeworld, right now. I am fighting the Reapers, right now. I am doing my best to prevent them from coming for the quarian people, right now.”
