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The Reaper War

Page 46

by Cole Price


  “Not yet. We heard the gunfire too. We’re trying to get closer, but it’s slow work.”

  “Keep trying.”

  Then another voice broke into the channel I had found for Shepard, a flanging tenor. “Garrus here. Heard you’re in trouble, Shepard. The word is out. Everybody’s heading your way.”

  “Good to hear,” said Shepard. “Things are a little dicey.”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” said the turian. “Liara, any idea about the opposition?”

  “Some kind of mercenary group, as far as I can tell. It’s not clear what they want.”

  “They want me,” Shepard pointed out.

  “You’re already spoken for,” I told him. “Hang on.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” A moment later, Shepard spoke again, an unmistakable note of satisfaction in his voice. “Brooks! I found a way across. It’s locked down.”

  “Right, because of the, uh, lockdown. Can you get through?”

  I revised my opinion of the mysterious Maya Brooks and her intelligence. Downward.

  “I’ll try to override it.” A short pause, then: “Hah. Spectre authorization worked.”

  Suddenly I heard an alarm and an outbreak of gunfire, from off to my left about a hundred meters away. Then an explosion: a bright blue flare of light, followed by a characteristic crashing boom. Shepard must have used his biotics, detonating his own barriers in a nova-blast.

  “Commander!” shouted Brooks.

  I turned to hurry in that direction. “Shepard, what are you doing? I heard that from here!”

  “It’s . . . all . . . under control.” I could hear small-arms fire over the channel between his words.

  “Was that some kind of alarm?” asked Garrus. “What’s going on?”

  “Just thought I’d make things a bit more interesting.”

  “Of course you did,” the turian drawled in amusement.

  Just then my omni-tool chimed again. A message from Brooks, and a navigation point.

  Well, perhaps she’s not entirely useless.

  “Shepard, Brooks sent me a nav-point for an aircar lot. It looks as if I’m the closest. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Good.”

  “Do you know anything about these mercenaries?”

  “They have guns, and they don’t like me?”

  “That’s not very helpful.”

  Brooks broke in once more. “Commander, it would really be great if you could stay off the comm.”

  I took the hint, and picked up my pace. The sound of gunfire was very close now, with the occasional explosion mixed in.

  “Commander, there’s a C-Sec shuttle inbound, if you can get to the landing pad at the aircar lot.”

  “Understood.”

  “Okay. Brooks over! No, out. Brooks out. Over and out? Brooks! Oh, damn it.”

  I rolled my eyes in exasperation, and then dropped down into cover. Just in time. I had reached the edge of the aircar lot, a Cision Motors dealership, and I saw people who did not belong there. Four figures, all of them humans in bulky combat armor, waiting in ambush.

  Fortunately they all faced the wrong direction, toward the noise of battle and away from me. I eased through a door to get into the showroom, and then flitted from one car to another, never exposing myself for more than a moment at a time. I had no trouble reaching the point at which I planned to begin my own surprise.

  The mercenaries had shields, but I still had some of Tali’s old programs for overload charges in my omni-tool. I sent a charge flying, an enemy’s shield went down in sparks and flares, and then a telekinetic throw smashed my victim against a nearby stone planter. One down.

  The other three turned and lay down a barrage of fire.

  It was a quick fight. My Shuriken seemed as effective as ever in tearing down enemy shields. A burst or two of fire, then a surge from my biotic corona as my left hand lashed out, repeat as needed. It took less than a minute before the last mercenary began looking frantically around for an exit. I didn’t give him the opportunity.

  A door opened behind the fallen mercenaries. As I rose from cover and strode out onto the showroom floor, Shepard came out to meet me. He wore casual clothes, looking pale, somewhat drenched from his fall through the fish-tank, but he had a pistol at the ready and a determined expression on his face. I felt a rush of affection spiced with desire, and smiled at him.

  “Having a bad day, Shepard?”

  He smiled at me and lowered his sidearm, a pistol of unfamiliar make. I decided he must have taken it from one of the mercenaries. “You could say that.”

  I pointed over to my right. “The landing pad is over there, but the gate is locked.”

  “We can fix that.” Shepard glanced around, saw the dealership offices a few steps away. He strode in that direction.

  “I understand you fell through a fish tank,” I remarked as I followed him.

  “We’ll talk about it later.”

  “A shame,” I teased him. “I rather liked that restaurant.”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” he growled. He approached the office door, only to see its control panel flash from green to red. He frowned, raised his pistol once more and took a stance. “Stand back . . .”

  I saw something he had missed. I put a gentle hand on his arm, encouraging him to lower the weapon. Then I rapped firmly on the office window. “Hello? Could you please open the gate?”

  The volus I had spotted didn’t seem to move from his position, cowering under his desk. He must have activated some control, though, because the gate out to the landing pad made a loud chirp and began to rise.

  “Thank you.”

  “Please leave.”

  I smiled at Shepard and led the way out to the pad.

  “Well,” he said. “I could have done that.”

  While we crossed the showroom floor, I opened my comm. “Vara? I’ve found Shepard.”

  “That’s very good news, despoina. I’ll have everyone converge on your position.”

  We stepped out onto the landing pad, where I could hear the sound of an approaching shuttle. It swept in from our right, looking remarkably comforting in its blue-and-white C-Sec colors. It settled toward the pad, the side-hatch began to open . . .

  Shepard caught me around the waist, throwing both of us down to the floor behind a display unit. As I fell, I caught just a glimpse of more black-armored figures in the shuttle, and then a storm of weapons fire tore through the spot where we had stood a moment before.

  “I sincerely hope that isn’t our ride,” I gasped.

  “You and me both. Damn, they’ve got some heavy weapons in there.”

  “How are we going to get out of this one?”

  “I’m thinking . . .”

  Just then my heart leaped into my throat, for what felt like the seventeenth time that day. An enormous howling roar erupted from somewhere above us. Shepard and I looked up, just in time to see a large, red-armored krogan come flying through an advertising hologram about seven meters above our heads.

  The krogan landed on the nose of the shuttle with a great crash, upsetting the entire vehicle. The hail of gunfire abruptly cut off as our attackers stumbled. I peeked out, just in time to see the newcomer dive into the shuttle’s passenger compartment. Then black-armored mercenaries began flying out, some onto the landing pad, others out the far side to hurtle down into the abyss.

  The entire fight took perhaps twenty seconds. Then Urdnot Wrex emerged from the shuttle, an expression of complete satisfaction on his face. “Hah! Bet you never saw a shuttle taken down like that before.” He chuckled, a sound like thunder in a barrel. “I still got it.”

  Shepard emerged from cover with a grin. “What are you doing here, Wrex?”

  “Butting heads with the Council over krogan plans for expansion after the war.” The big krogan bent to search one of the dead mercenaries, picked up a minigun to toss to Shepard. Then he gave me a significant glance. “All my meetings for today got cancelled. Something about the
Shadow Broker turning up on the Citadel and causing a ruckus.”

  I shook my head in mock-chagrin. “Sorry, Wrex.”

  “Ah, don’t mention it. Thanks to you, I was free this evening, and when I heard Shepard was in trouble down in the Wards? Well. Never could pass up a good fight.”

  My comm came to life. “Despoina, watch out! More of the mercenaries are about to swarm your position.”

  “Looks like you get more, Wrex,” I observed.

  “Hah!”

  I couldn’t see where they came from, but Vara proved right. While Shepard, Wrex, and I found positions and prepared our weapons, a fire-team of black-armored mercenaries deployed from a higher level onto the landing pad. Then another, and another.

  For once, I found myself in touch with my own krogan ancestry. The fight actually felt somewhat enjoyable. The three of us fought separately; there wasn’t enough cover for us to fortify any one position, and the mercenaries kept dropping from above in unpredictable places. All of us simply went hunting. Shepard used his flash-charge and nova-blast over and over, bouncing around the landing pad like a biotic wrecking ball. Wrex charged into close-quarters combat, leaving shattered and bleeding mercenaries in his wake. I tore down shields with gunfire, then broke necks and shattered ribcages with raw telekinetic force.

  I almost felt pity for the poor mercenaries. Then I reminded myself that they were doing their best to kill us. Fortunately their best wasn’t nearly good enough.

  “Commander!”

  “Joker? We lost our ride. Where are you?”

  “On my way. I picked up Brooks. Figured you might have a few questions.”

  I came around a large planter and found myself face-to-face with a startled mercenary. He began to raise his weapon.

  Then his head exploded.

  I dove for cover, dropping a singularity a few meters ahead of me to hinder any other foes, and then glanced across the thoroughfare to the sheer face of the buildings on the opposite side. I couldn’t see anyone, but I knew at least one asari sniper must have taken up a position there. I gave her a cheerful wave, and then went back to work.

  “Good to be back!” roared Wrex from somewhere behind me. “Oh yeah!”

  Light flashed by from behind me and to my left, close enough to brush my side. Then Shepard appeared explosively in the middle of another mercenary fire-team, scattering them like chaff before they could even finish deploying.

  “Commander?” The mysterious Brooks again. “Did C-Sec find you? Are you okay?”

  “Yes and no,” Shepard answered. “Mercs in a C-Sec shuttle.”

  “What?”

  He made another flash-charge, this one just a few meters long, to blind-side a mercenary aiming at Wrex. “Little busy right now!”

  “Right. Sorry! We’ll be there soon!”

  By coincidence, Shepard and I came in on both flanks of another mercenary. He went down in a blaze of blue light. My bondmate took a moment to flash me a wild grin, before launching himself into another flash-charge off to our right.

  Wrex charged across my field of view, firing his Claymore repeatedly at a cluster of foes. “Great place to fight in, Shepard! Lots of breakables!”

  “Glad I could provide, Wrex.”

  “What else are friends for?” growled the krogan.

  “Approaching your position,” said Joker a few moments later. “Just following the gunfire.”

  “Copy that,” said Shepard as he fired his captured mini-gun at a cluster of enemies.

  “Sorry I’m late. Had to take the scenic route.”

  “Scenic route?” demanded Brooks, her voice shrill with terror. “We nearly crashed four times! Where the hell did you learn to drive?”

  “Oh, and Brooks says hi.” Joker’s voice changed, became cool and professional. “Visual on the LZ, Commander. Five seconds out.”

  I knew what that meant. Time to beat feet, as Ashley might have said.

  I turned, dropped a singularity just behind me, and sprinted for the edge of the landing pad. One or two rounds struck me on the way, but my shields and biotic barrier shed the gunfire.

  Another shuttle hovered just above the edge of the landing pad, the hatch already open. One, two, three, we leaped aboard. I reached out to give Shepard a quick hand up, and he rewarded me with a quick kiss. The shuttle soared up into the air, our enemies sending futile fire to pursue us.

  I keyed my comm. “Vara, we’re free. Disengage and evade. Meet us at the apartment.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  * * *

  25 May 2186, Upper Kithoi Ward/Citadel

  Shepard had already spent a few hours at Anderson’s apartment, so he walked in with complete familiarity. I had to stop for a moment in the entry hall.

  Goddess, the Admiral must be fabulously wealthy. Or else he enjoys a very large stipend from the Alliance.

  It put my old apartment on Illium to shame: two full floors, luxurious study, very large kitchen and dining area, separate bar and lounge, several full guest rooms aside from the master suite. One could imagine raising a large family in that space, or hosting a social gathering of dozens of people. The décor struck me as handsome, not at all in an asari style, but human, masculine, and quite attractive.

  Wrex pushed past me, all no-nonsense stance and determined stare. “Someone want to tell me what’s going on here?”

  I shook my head and came back to the present crisis. “I have to wonder about those mercenaries. They were heavily armed and using C-Sec shuttles.”

  “I don’t know,” said Shepard. “I’ve never seen them before. They don’t behave much like the major players, like the Blue Suns or Eclipse.”

  The door cycled again behind us.

  “Hardly,” said Vara. “Eclipse in particular would not be nearly so clumsy.”

  I turned, and my eyes widened in surprise. All nine of my acolytes had arrived, like a small tidal wave of blue-skinned, black-armored Amazons. With a few gestures, Vara deployed two of them to watch the door, two more to stand in shadows by the enormous windows and watch the Silversun Strip outside. The rest sat down on couches and chairs, out of the way but listening intently.

  “Huh,” was Wrex’s only comment. “Who are these people?”

  “They’re mine,” I told him.

  He eyed me with a glitter of appreciation. “I see I’m not the only one who’s come up in the world.”

  “I can’t believe you survived all that,” Brooks jittered, pacing with sheer nerves. “They had guns! And grenades! And those drone things!”

  “Drone things?” I asked.

  “Little combat drones that kept zooming up and overloading my shields,” said Shepard. “Nothing too hard to deal with. I just had to stay under cover more than I usually like.”

  I frowned. “That’s very good technology, for a mercenary group no one seems to have heard from before.”

  Shepard opened his omni-tool. “I’m going to call Commander Bailey. Something must be seriously wrong over at C-Sec, and I want to find out what’s going on.”

  “Good idea.” Brooks suddenly gasped, a hand rising to her face. “Wait! If your comms have been hacked, wouldn’t that just make whoever you call another target?”

  “That’s true,” I said reluctantly. “Until we know more, it’s a risk.”

  Shepard nodded. “Okay. For now, we run this ourselves.”

  “Right.” Brooks tried to sound determined, and managed only to sound faintly ridiculous. “Ourselves. On our own. Outside the law. Okay. Yeah.”

  “Brooks, gunfire means something serious is going on. Do you think you can keep it together long enough for us to figure this out?”

  I glanced at Shepard, rather surprised at his stern demeanor toward a fellow officer.

  Does he see something I don’t?

  “They said the medi-gel might make me a bit jumpy.” Brooks glared back at Shepard. “There’s also the fact that I work a desk job and have never been shot before . . .”

  “So ho
w did you get mixed up in this?”

  Brooks took a deep breath. “I monitor data for Alliance Intelligence, to prevent fraud and hacking of officer IDs. Like someone using an admiral’s pass to get into a nightclub on the Citadel, when that admiral is actually fighting on Tuchanka?”

  Shepard nodded, deep in thought.

  “I wrote a tracking program. It’s really neat. I named it Mr. Biscuits, after my cat.”

  “Brooks,” growled Shepard.

  “Right. Anyway. Mr. Bis – my program detected a breach in your classified files. Soon everything we had on you was compromised: your personnel file, mission reports, everything.”

  “Since when does hacking personnel records involve heavy weapons fire?” objected Wrex.

  “Well, just think of what criminals could do if they had the Commander’s military access codes. Or Spectre codes, even?”

  “I don’t buy it,” said Shepard skeptically. “Spectre security is very tight, and it’s completely separate from the Alliance system. I don’t see how a bunch of mercs could get my Spectre codes, or use them if they got them.”

  Wrex shrugged. “Well, it would explain why they need you dead, Shepard. That way there would be nothing to stop them before the damage was done.”

  Shepard made a grim chuckle. “Well, it looks as if we’re back on the clock.”

  “Don’t worry.” I reached out and touched his shoulder. “We’ll find a quiet evening, just the two of us, once this is finished.”

  “I’d like that,” he said with a moment’s smile. “Okay. Any ideas where to start with these guys?”

  “Their technology, maybe. You mentioned those drones as something it’s strange for mercs to have.” Wrex pointed to Shepard’s side. “Then there’s that pistol you picked up. For such a tiny thing, it packs a punch. Never saw anything like it before.”

  I nodded in excitement. “Nor have I. Let me see if there’s anything I can dig up.”

  “Well, you can try,” said Brooks. “But I should warn you, I haven’t come up with anything, and I’ve been digging pretty deep.”

  Wrex snorted. “You haven’t been following the news, have you?”

 

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