The Reaper War

by Cole Price

  Shepard roared and charged out into the intersection, leading the rest of us out to rescue the last few soldiers. To no avail. By the time we destroyed the Reaper squads in the square, the last artillerymen were dead.

  Shepard shook his head in grim disgust, and called Major Coats. “Major? We’ve just reached the last of the artillery. Two of the trucks are still here, but everyone is dead. What’s the situation?”

  “That damn beam’s interfering with missile guidance. We can hit the destroyer. Hell, we’ve already hit it more than once. We can’t get the precision strike we need to take it out.”

  “Damn it. EDI, any suggestions?”

  “Yes, Commander. I may be able to use Normandy’s systems to enhance targeting.”

  “I don’t have any better ideas. Get on it.”

  EDI moved to the nearest missile truck and began to work with a control panel on one side.

  “I don’t like this, Skipper.” Ashley looked around. “We’re too exposed here. Not enough cover. If the Reapers punch through our forces on the flanks . . .”

  “Right. EDI, time is of the essence.”

  “Understood. I have set up a link to my systems aboard Normandy. It will take a few moments to adapt the missile’s targeting systems. We must defend the battery until then.”

  Shepard nodded, glanced around quickly, and then made his dispositions. The seven of us formed a perimeter around the missile trucks, and waited for an enemy to appear.

  We didn’t have to wait long.

  “Hammer. This is Admiral Anderson. Reaper ground forces are making a push. Hold your ground. Protect those tanks until we can get a shot.”

  They came from the north, from the direction where the Reaper destroyer still fought another section of Hammer. Cannibals. Marauders. Many of them.

  Shepard shifted us to new cover, where we hunkered down and pounded everything we saw in that direction. It took about a minute, and then the pressure had gone.

  “So far, so good,” muttered Ashley.

  “Rrrh. Do not become overconfident, Commander.”

  Javik was right.

  Another call to Shepard’s helmet comm, this time from the Hammer companies to the west. “Commander, we tried to hold them off, but they destroyed our trucks, overwhelmed our position. Your left flank is gone, and they’re headed your way. Sorry, sir.”

  “Hang in there, soldier,” Shepard answered. “Heads up! We’ve got incoming!”

  The second wave appeared over a mountain of debris on Downing Street, at least a platoon of cannibals and marauders, with two banshees flash-charging in on their flanks.

  Shepard shifted our position once again, to face the onrushing threat.

  For once, the Reaper creatures did not hesitate. They charged us, heedless of their losses, the banshees providing support with bursts of biotic fire. Ten of them went down, then twenty, and it wasn’t enough.

  “Fall back!” shouted Shepard. “By the numbers, covering fire!”

  The last of the Marines – I think it was a young man named Corporal Reyes – disappeared under a swarm of cannibals. His screams echoed in our ears as we did our best to retreat in good order. Then, nothing but silence.

  “Damn it!” swore James, exposing himself for an instant to hammer the heaving mound of cancerous flesh with his rifle.

  Then we found new cover, far enough back that the enemy couldn’t simply overwhelm us. Shepard directed our fire against one of the banshees, then the other. A few moments of ambush and biotic exertion, and the enemy went down once more.

  Six of us gathered in the middle of the intersection.

  “EDI?”

  “Yes, Commander. I have completed reprogramming of the missile guidance. Missiles are ready for launch.”

  “Best news I’ve heard all day.”

  Shepard hurried over to the truck, touched the controls. With a twin flare of rocket exhaust, two missiles leaped into the air, roaring away up Whitehall.

  Careening in two completely useless directions, to explode against nothing of importance.

  “Damn it!”

  “We’ve only got two more missiles,” said Ashley.

  “The Reaper is still too close to the beam,” said EDI. “We must encourage it to move away.”

  “Which brings it closer to us.”

  “No thresher maws to throw at this one, either,” I muttered.

  “Commander.” Anderson’s voice on the comm. “Bad news. Hammer forces are being overrun at every turn. You’ve got another wave coming at you from all sides.”

  “Holy shit,” rumbled James.

  “Hang on, everyone,” said Shepard, for once permitting a little fear to show in his voice. “We can do this.”

  We deployed in a perimeter around the last missile truck, and then we waited. Hoping that the next wave would come at us from one side as before.

  No such luck.

  The next wave arrived within moments, and it came from all four sides of the intersection at once.

  Brutes. Six of them.

  Shepard proved nearly inspired, that uncanny situational awareness somehow keeping track of each of the slow-moving beasts. He pulled us this way, then that way, attacking each brute in turn from a distance, never permitting any of them to come close enough for a charge. One went down, then two, then three. Each dead brute made it that much easier for our squad to avoid the ones that remained.

  All the while, the Reaper itself came ambling down Whitehall, coming to crush the source of the missiles that had attracted its ire. Its crimson beam began to rip at the surrounding buildings, sending masonry crashing down into the street. Sometimes it raked the street itself. Had any of us been exposed, it would have killed us at once.

  The final brute went down with a roar.

  We had about three seconds to congratulate ourselves. Then a harvester landed in the middle of the intersection, and almost killed the lot of us.

  Half of us broke one way. Half of us broke the other way. Shepard’s careful deployment of his squad fell apart.

  Suddenly all of us had to fight for our lives as individuals, diving for any cover we could find, firing at targets of opportunity. Somehow I managed to stay close to Ashley, and the two of us watched each other’s backs, but it seemed small comfort. Especially when the final wave rolled in from all sides, a small horde of the lesser Reaper creatures, and at least four banshees.

  Run, hide, realize the Reaper’s main gun just fired a few meters over your head, listen for the banshee screams, try not to remember that they sometimes advanced in silence. Fire at the cannibal in front of you, realize that another one almost leaped on your back, only Ashley killed it with her rifle. A cluster of enemy troops rushing close, incendiary grenade from Ashley, singularity and warp from you, so fast you’re not sure how you did it . . .

  James Vega, firing from a moment’s cover at a squad of cannibals, not realizing that a banshee had crept up behind him. His half-repaired kinetic barriers going down, an instant before the creature tore his head from his shoulders in a fountain of gore.

  Suddenly we heard a roll of what sounded like thunder, a glare of blue-white detonations that came so close together they almost made a single sound. It went on for second after second.

  Shepard, using every biotic feat he could manage with incredible rapidity, to attack the Reaper’s forces and signal his location to the rest of us.

  We all ran for the sound of the guns.

  EDI had stayed with him somehow, Javik leaped down from a nearby vantage point, then Ashley and I pelted up at a dead run.

  “Where’s James?” he demanded, relaxing his corona for an instant.

  I caught his eye and shook my head.

  “Come on. EDI says the Reaper is close enough.”

  I glanced over my shoulder, and yes, the thing loomed over the intersection, almost ready to “look” down at us with its main gun. Fortunately it seemed as near-sighted as most of its kind, still determined to stamp us out by tearing down the
façades of the buildings on every side.

  We hurried over toward the last missile truck, all of us watching our quarters, horribly aware that at least two banshees remained active out there. They must have been searching for us in the wrong place. Shepard reached the control panel.

  “Firing.”

  The last two missiles flew, appearing to weave around one of the Reaper’s crimson beams, rising, rising, then diving down just as the thing tried to slam its firing chamber shut.

  An instant too late.

  A detonation like the fall of a whole world, a tremendous gout of flames coming from inside the Reaper.

  “Shepard to all remaining Hammer units. The Reaper has taken a hit. Repeat, the Reaper has taken a hit. Throw everything you can at it!”

  Had all of Hammer survived to that point, we would have seen a cyclone of weapons fire rise against the Reaper. What we saw instead was impressive enough, and sufficient to our ends.

  The Reaper tottered, swayed, and went down, crushing a few venerable buildings under its vast bulk. Our path to the transport beam finally stood open.

  Chapter 57 : Final Assault

  22 June 2186, Near Trafalgar Square, London/Earth V minus 25 minutes

  “Shepard, over here!” Admiral Anderson called, as he climbed out of an armored vehicle just entering the intersection where we had fought. “Thank God you made it.”

  Shepard glanced at me. I wiped blood, sweat, and grime off my face, and wondered if I looked any better than he did.

  “It was a tough fight,” Shepard said at last.

  “Casualties?”

  “Most of Normandy’s Marines. Lieutenant Vega. Liara’s acolyte Vara is missing, probably dead.”

  “Damn.” Anderson took a deep breath, giving both of us a somber glance. “I’m afraid it gets worse.”

  “Of course it does,” Shepard muttered.

  “Hackett’s just called in. The Reapers have reinforcements in space. Another twenty or so Sovereign-class ships arrived while we made our push down here. Including Harbinger.”

  “Hmm. They’re getting serious, if the oldest Reaper of them all is taking a hand.”

  “Too right. The Reapers are starting to test our perimeter around the Citadel. Hackett doesn’t think it will be long before they try a full-scale counterattack. Meanwhile some of them have turned for Earth. Probably to respond to what we’ve accomplished here.”

  “Then we had better get the job done now,” Shepard said. “How much of Hammer is ready to make the final attack?”

  “I have some forces out to keep the Reapers off our flanks and out of the FOB. The rest will be here in a few minutes.” Anderson shrugged. “We still have an opportunity for Hackett to get the Crucible in place. But we have to get a team on board the Citadel to open those arms now.”

  Major Coats shook his head wearily. “We still don’t even know what we’ll find when we get to the Citadel.”

  Shepard folded his arms and looked resolute. “Major, I don’t think it matters. This is the only chance we have. We either get boots on the Citadel and open those arms now, or the Reapers take us apart in detail.”

  Anderson nodded. “I don’t like it, Shepard, but I think you’re right. I don’t even think we can wait for the rest of Hammer to get here.”

  “Then with all due respect, Admiral, what are we waiting for?”

  “Nothing at all. Saddle up, everybody.”

  Anderson turned away to contact Hackett and call for the Crucible. Shepard turned back to us, gathering what was left of his team together.

  Shepard, Ashley, Javik, EDI, and me, all of us already battered and wounded. No one else from Normandy had made it this far. It didn’t seem like enough. At least Garrus, Tali, and Miranda were all back aboard, busy with their staff work, and safe. Relatively speaking.

  “No speeches,” said Shepard at last. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m too damned tired. Let’s just load up and get the job done.”

  “You got it, Skipper.”

  “Rrrh. Yes, Commander.”

  EDI and I only nodded in determination.

  Shepard opened his comm. “Normandy, this is Shepard.”

  “You’re five by five, Commander,” said Joker.

  “We’re about to make our final push to the Reaper beam. I want you down here over London for close air support, and ready to extract anyone who needs it.”

  “Roger that. We’ll be there in two minutes.”

  He glanced at all of us, a wordless command. We climbed into the Admiral’s AFV for the last advance.

  Anderson joined us soon afterward, with Coats just behind him to close the hatch and signal the driver to proceed.

  “Hackett says the Crucible is on the move,” said the admiral. “Should be here and ready to dock with the Citadel in just a few minutes.”

  “Does he think he can keep the Reapers at bay long enough?” asked Shepard.

  “He wouldn’t say. You know Hackett, he doesn’t like to make promises he isn’t sure he can keep. But there’s no one I’d rather have in charge out there. If he can’t do it, nobody else in the galaxy can.”

  Shepard nodded. I found myself in agreement.

  Anderson smiled with gallows humor. “At least from here on in, it’s a straight shot to the beam.”

  “A straight shot, with Reapers trying to crush us along the way,” said Coats.

  “We just need to get a handful of troops through.”

  “Is that all?” muttered Javik.

  Anderson shrugged. “We knew this was going to be a gamble at best.”

  “We’ve overcome every obstacle so far,” said Shepard wearily. “I think my team and I have one more victory in us.”

  “We’re in sight of the target,” said Coats, watching the external view.

  Anderson nodded. “All right, everyone. This is it . . .”

  Crash! The Mako struck an obstacle – or was struck by hostile fire – and jolted to a stop.

  Coats immediately slammed the side hatch open and climbed out. The rest of us followed.

  We had stopped less than half a kilometer from the Reaper installation. From our position, we had nothing but a short broken-field run across some debris, and then down the long slope to the transport beam. I could see Reaper forces massing in our path, not yet in great numbers. It looked doable.

  Then a horn sounded, vast and terrible, echoing from horizon to horizon.

  I looked up, just in time to see Harbinger descend from the heavens.

  Huge and black, larger than any other Reaper we had ever seen, its six tentacle-like limbs spread wide, and its cluster of “eyes” glowed hot with malice. It slammed to the ground on the far side of the Reaper facility, the shock enough to throw some of us off our feet and bring more debris down from the ruined buildings around us.

  “Shit!” Anderson cursed. “We gotta move!”

  “Come on!” shouted Shepard, surging into a lumbering run.

  All of us who remained followed him.

  “Hammer squads, go go go!” shouted Anderson.

  We ran, and fought, and ran some more. No thought for tactics, no thought even for staying together in a group, nothing but a terrifying final sprint. I fired my sidearm and threw biotics against those Reaper creatures who stood in my way. Other squads from Hammer fell in beside us, around us, all running for the same goal. Armored vehicles lumbered out onto the slope to support the charging infantry.

  The Reaper creatures laid down fire in response. Our people fell on all sides. Even some of the AFVs took direct hits and fell behind, crippled.

  Then Harbinger began to apply its main gun.

  An ordinary Reaper on the ground could be horribly effective. Harbinger was an order of magnitude worse. It fired every second or two, far faster than most Reapers were able, every blast accompanied by a huge musical tone. It seemed like an angry god playing an enormous pipe organ, every note smashing an armored vehicle or vaporizing a squad.

  Horrible noise,
eruptions of crimson light, the ground itself shaking as if in earthquake. My senses overloaded. I couldn’t tell what was going on around me. Only that Hammer was dying, like a swarm of insects in a bonfire, but I remained on my feet and could still move in the right direction.

  I saw EDI’s mobile platform caught in a great explosion, wreathed in flame, hurled backward in a whirl of broken limbs, to smash on the ground and lie still.

  I saw Javik look up, his eyes wide with absolute rage, his mouth gaping open, catching Harbinger’s gaze in the instant before a shard of metal caught him in mid-torso and nailed him to the ground.

  I glimpsed Shepard’s back, a dozen paces ahead, still charging forward, and I followed him.

  Then my turn came.

  Harbinger caught another Mako about ten meters ahead of me. It flew up into the air, already belching flames – Shepard ducking and rolling under the wreck as it passed him – and then came down directly in front of me. I didn’t have time to dodge, or find cover, or do anything but slam down a barrier in the instant before it exploded.

  Pain. Shock. Darkness.

  Then my mind rebooted, my senses came back to life, and I realized I was not yet dead. Although I hurt so badly I felt quite sure I was about to die. I mewled, like a mortally wounded beast.

  Then I felt strong hands, a shoulder under my arm, a few shaky steps to cover behind another wrecked vehicle. The din of the battle receded a little.

  I looked to see who had rescued me. First I saw Ashley, favoring one arm, her face absolutely covered with blood, her eyes wide and dull with shock. She must have been close by, hit by a fringe of the same explosion.

  Then I saw Shepard, crouching beside us, making a comm call. “Normandy, do you copy? I need an evac, right now!”

  “It’s pretty damn hot up here, Commander.” A pause. “Okay, we’re clear. On our way.”

  The sensation of medi-gel on my wounds, cool and numbing. I hesitantly touched my face with one hand, and brought my fingers away covered with indigo.

  “How bad?” I managed to rasp.

  Shepard looked into my eyes for a moment, and said nothing. Still, I knew how to read that ice-blue stare.

  It must look very bad indeed.