The Reaper War

by Cole Price

  I stared at him, startled. “There’s an Armax arena here?”

  “There certainly is.” He watched me for a moment. “I didn’t think you would be interested in anything like that.”

  “Oh yes. I was an enormous skyball fanatic when I was younger, and I always followed the arena leagues as well. Competitive combat sims are very popular on Thessia, ever since the turians introduced the sport. Every city-state sponsors its best huntress teams to compete.”

  “Well. After we eat, maybe we should get cleaned up and walk down the Strip. Take in a few matches.”

  “That sounds like fun.” I glanced over my shoulder toward the apartment’s front door. “Nerylla, Shepard and I are going to go visit the arena. Would you contact Vara and have a detail ready?”

  “Yes, despoina.”

  Shepard cocked an eyebrow at me. “T’Soni, are we going to be bringing your acolytes along on dates now?”

  “I’m afraid so. Serves you right for marrying the Shadow Broker.”

  “I don’t know. Walking along with one sexy, dangerous asari on my arm and three more following me? Good for my ego.”

  I snorted. “As if your ego needs any more reinforcement, oh Mighty Galactic Hero.”

  We laughed together, and then turned our attention back to our breakfast.

  * * *

  It was fun, walking with Shepard down one of the Citadel’s busiest streets.

  Many stopped to stare at us, of course. Shepard’s face had been famous throughout the galaxy ever since the final battle against Sovereign, almost exactly three years before. At that point the public did not yet recognize me so often, but every news channel in Citadel space had broadcast my face the previous day. On the street, very few people had any trouble deducing who we were. We might have been mobbed by the curious and the celebrity-mad, had my acolytes not stayed close by. Vara, Nerylla, and Tania kept strangers at a polite distance through their mere presence, although many people activated omni-tools or personal datapads, taking pictures as our party moved past.

  At first, it felt very strange. My heart beat with nervous speed, until I grew accustomed to being the focus of attention. Shepard helped a great deal, walking tall and strong at my side, taking no notice of the stares, keeping up his end of our idle conversation. It also helped that I saw no overt reactions of anger or hostility. The Citadel’s citizens seemed willing to accept our presence among them.

  We arrived at the Armax arena. Shepard paid for a sheaf of tickets, and then the five of us climbed a broad staircase up to the audience’s gallery. There too the audience noticed us, but most of them seemed too wrapped up in their entertainment to pay much attention. We moved down into an expensive private box, my acolytes posting themselves to watch the approaches. I sat next to Shepard, excited, and opened my omni-tool to query the schedule.

  “Wait, what?” I blinked in astonishment. “Barla Von has a team?”

  Shepard looked at his own omni-tool and chuckled. “Check out his stats, Liara. That volus is very bad news in the arena.”

  “Goddess. I had no idea.”

  “He must put some of that money you pay him into bleeding-edge gear.”

  Just then the lights began to dim. I leaned on Shepard’s shoulder and took one of his hands as a volus and two turians ventured out into the arena. The announcer spoke and the combatants fanned out. As the cheers of the crowd rose to a crescendo, a squad of holographic Cerberus troopers materialized down on the floor.

  My eyes went wide.

  “Yes!” crowed Shepard. “Perfect crossfire!”

  Even with reinforcements to replace the fallen, the holograms went down like grain before the scythe. The turians proved deadly enough, covering Barla Von’s flanks, but the volus was magnificent. He spun like an enormous top, flinging gunfire and overload charges to all sides as he moved through the heart of the enemy formation. His kill streaks seemed to stretch on forever, and somehow the holographic foe just couldn’t concentrate enough fire to overcome his shields. He couldn’t manage the sprint to capture a holographic flag after each round, but his turian teammates proved more than quick enough for that.

  It took less than five minutes. Shepard and I watched the scoreboard.

  “Gold round,” I breathed, somewhat in awe. “I will never laugh at a volus again.”

  Just then something distracted Shepard. I could feel sudden tension in his arm and shoulder as he abruptly glanced to the side.

  Vara and Tania had moved to the entrance to our box, faces grim and weapons drawn. They confronted a male turian in an expensive business suit, who currently stood very still and kept his hands well within view.

  “Commander Shepard?” called the turian. “Titus Vesperianus. I’m a vice-president of Armax Arsenal, and the operations officer for this arena. May I approach you?”

  “He’s clean,” Tania reported.

  Shepard nodded. “Go ahead, Vara, let him in.”

  My acolytes moved aside, and the turian came to stand before Shepard at a respectful distance. “It’s a great honor to meet you in person, Commander. You as well, Dr. T’Soni.”

  “Thanks. What can we do for you?”

  “It’s more what we can do for each other, Commander. Have you ever competed in combat sims?”

  Shepard shook his head, his eyes narrowed in sudden thought. “Only during military training and exercises, never in the arena. I’m guessing you would like to change that.”

  “Very much so. Commander, do you have any idea what the ratings would be like if you decided to participate in a match?”

  “I’ve never thought about it.”

  “One hour of your time and I could make my quota for a month,” said Vesperianus, his mandibles flaring in an expression of good cheer. “I’m prepared to offer competitor’s access, for you and any teammates you care to name, free of charge. I’ll give you gold-tier preferred scheduling, and standard prizes for each win. All I ask is that you sign a contract giving Armax the broadcast rights.”

  Shepard frowned, thinking it through. He glanced at me, and must have seen something in my face to encourage him.

  “Mr. Vesperianus,” he said at last, “as I understand it, Armax makes most of its money from the arena through micro-transactions. Someone out in the galaxy wants to watch a few matches, he tunes in and his account gets debited for a credit or so.”

  “That’s right. Although a lot of fans of the game buy subscriptions, so they can watch as much as they like.”

  “What kind of numbers do you usually get for a match?”

  The turian cocked his head, looking oddly pleased to see Shepard asking questions. “An ordinary match, with a well-established team in the game? Our ratings usually run in the high hundreds of millions of viewers.”

  A slow grin spread across Shepard’s face, matching the turian’s wide-mandibled smile. “What about a match with me and some of my friends in it? Even if we’re not an established team?”

  Vesperianus nodded. “It would depend on how well you did. Even if you somehow turned out to be a complete dud, I’m sure we would get a few billion viewers for your first matches. If you fought well, we could do even better.”

  “All right. This all sounds very intriguing, but I’m getting the feeling you’re offering me chump change. Giving me a free athlete’s pass and a few hundred thousand credits in prize money doesn’t even make a tiny dent in what you stand to make.”

  The turian’s predatory smile only widened slightly. “What do you propose?”

  “I’ll play in your games, Mr. Vesperianus. While I’m on the Citadel and on leave, at any rate. But I want all of my prize money to go to Alliance civilian relief efforts.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “Plus twenty percent of your gross.”

  “Ten percent,” the turian said at once.

  “Fifteen.”

  “Done.” Vesperianus chuckled. “Provided you let me advertise what you’re doing with your prize money, and that we’re also don
ating a substantial cut of our proceeds. That will attract so much extra attention, we’ll probably come out ahead.”

  Shepard nodded. “I thought as much. That suits me just fine, Mr. Vesperianus. I wouldn’t usually be interested – fighting isn’t a game to me. But if your numbers are right, we can feed, clothe, and house a lot of refugees with that money.”

  “Not to mention giving some hope to the people suffering in this war,” I pointed out quietly. “You’re already a hero to billions, but most of them have never seen what you can do. Why not take a few hours to show them?”

  Vesperianus nodded in agreement. “I’ll have a contract for you to examine in five minutes. Would you be willing to compete within an hour?”

  “Sure. All I need is a team.” Shepard thought for a moment, and then grinned. “What do you say, Liara?”

  Somehow I hadn’t thought the matter through that far. “Me? Don’t be absurd, Shepard, you want a team with more combat experience.”

  “Come on, T’Soni, just how many combat situations have you survived in the past three years?”

  I opened my mouth. Stopped, blinking rapidly. Closed my mouth again.

  “Right. That’s two of us.” Shepard glanced over at my acolytes. “Ladies? I don’t suppose any of you would mind being my other wingmate?”

  The three of them glanced at each other for an instant, and then Vara stepped forward. “With all due respect, Commander, the hard part will be deciding which of us gets to go.” She grinned. “Fortunately for me, I have seniority.”

  “Oh Goddess,” I muttered.

  * * *

  Shepard fought three matches that afternoon, placing himself in the top levels of the arena’s leaderboard with almost contemptuous ease.

  His first match ended in an overwhelming victory, of course. New to the arena, he fought against mere footsoldier-level opponents, holograms with the appearance and behavior of ordinary geth soldiers. We sliced through three waves of them in less than five minutes, with kill streaks long enough to maximize our score. None of us took more than superficial hits. We even made an effort to be showy about it, all three of us setting off blinding displays of biotic fireworks. When Shepard flash-charged in to smash the last geth soldier, the audience came to its feet with a great roar.

  Titus Vesperianus looked indecently pleased with himself, after that first match.

  Afterward I bowed out, returning with Vara to our box in the stands. Not that I hadn’t enjoyed our match. It felt quite exciting, using my skills without having to fear for my life, hearing the audience react to every success. It reminded me of my time at university, on the skyball field or competing in the yearly agon.

  The problem was that everyone else wanted a chance to fight on Shepard’s team.

  We had barely gotten back to the athlete’s ready room when Ashley called, quite miffed that we had taken up the competitive sims without letting her know. So Shepard’s second match pitted “Team Normandy” – Shepard, Ashley, and James Vega – against holographic Cerberus troopers.

  By the third match, Shepard had cumulative scores high enough that the arena gave him more difficult opponents. He fought simulated Reaper soldiers: husks, cannibals, marauders, ravagers, and brutes. With Urdnot Wrex and Urdnot Grunt at his side.

  * * *

  “Mind if I join you?”

  I glanced to the side, where my acolytes had once more gone on guard against an unexpected visitor. This time my eyes widened with surprise.

  Aria T’Loak.

  “She’s armed,” said Tania tensely.

  “Of course she is.” I relaxed back into my seat and gestured permission. “Don’t worry, Tania, she’s not an enemy.”

  Aria smirked as my acolytes admitted her to the box. “You sure about that, T’Soni?”

  “Reasonably so. I’m also reasonably sure that if you wanted me dead, you wouldn’t be so crude as to do it yourself, out here in the open.”

  “True.” The Pirate Queen sat down a few seats away, sprawling into her chair with an air of indolence. “My, my. You certainly have come up in the world since the last time I saw you.”

  “I wasn’t aware we had ever met.”

  Aria snorted in amused contempt. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You may be the Shadow Broker these days – and I would love to hear how that happened – but you’re not the only person in the galaxy who can put two and two together. I figured out Kalliste Renai’s identity before you even finished that mission.”

  “Fair enough. I apologize.”

  She nodded curtly, looking down into the arena. Below us, Shepard emerged with two massive krogan at his side. When the announcer revealed the composition of his team, the audience roared.

  “Your human has a lot of political sense,” Aria observed. “Or is that your doing?”

  “He comes by it honestly.”

  “Fighting with two asari by his side. That will play well back on Thessia. Then an Alliance team against Cerberus; that’s quite the political statement for his own people. Now he’s fighting with the leader of the entire krogan species, against their blood enemies.” She chuckled. “At this rate, he’ll get more diplomacy done in one afternoon than in weeks of flying around the galaxy, talking at people.”

  “He’s aware of the implications,” I agreed. “The Alliance is lucky that one of their foremost soldiers is also a talented diplomat.”

  “Oh, I agree, he’s got a lot of talents.” She gave me a sharp glance. “That’s why I want to borrow him for a few days.”

  I turned away from the opening stages of Shepard’s fight, to stare at Aria. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m just about ready to return to Omega and take back what’s mine,” she said grimly. “I want Shepard to come with me.”

  I sat back, watching as Shepard and his krogan friends charged into the first wave of Reaper holograms. My mind wasn’t on the game. I worked through the implications at lightning speed.

  “Politics,” I said after a moment.

  Aria only smiled as she leaned forward for a moment, appreciating some particularly violent maneuver down on the arena floor.

  “If Shepard goes with you, he can be a big help on the battlefield, but he can give you something even better than that once you win.” I gave her a small knowing smile. “Legitimacy.”

  “Sure. I can see the fight against the Reapers is the most important thing in the galaxy right now. That’s why I’m willing to commit all my resources to the war as soon as I have Omega back. But assuming we somehow manage to win . . .”

  “Looking to expand your horizons, Aria?” I ignored the match below, watching her for revealing body language or expression. I didn’t see any. “Being the absolute ruler of Omega isn’t enough for you anymore?”

  “I don’t want anyone else looking at what the lllusive Man did to me, and thinking they can get away with trying the same thing. If I have to take over half the Terminus Systems to defend what’s mine, I don’t have a problem with that.”

  “I understand. You’ll have to discuss it with Shepard.”

  “I already have.” She smiled at me, her eyes glittering with enjoyment. “The thing is, I don’t need the rest of his crew to get what I want.”

  “You want Shepard to come to Omega without his team? Without Normandy?”

  “That’s the deal. No Alliance involvement. Not even that other Spectre he runs with. The Shadow Broker in particular keeps her sticky paws well away from Omega.”

  I cocked my head at her, keeping my anger well under control. “I’m not sure I understand. I can help, and I have resources of my own.”

  Her voice went very cold. “That would be nice, if I thought I could trust you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ll make it plain enough even for you. Just when were you planning to tell me who really murdered my daughter?”

  I felt a small shock.

  Not many people in the galaxy knew that Aria T’Loak had any family. Her daughter Liselle had been
one of her lieutenants on Omega, her ancestry carefully concealed, until her brutal murder about six months before. Liselle had been romantically involved with the human Paul Grayson, and the circumstances of her death had pointed to Grayson as the murderer. The incident had driven Aria into a poorly considered alliance with the Illusive Man, leading inexorably to the Cerberus takeover of Omega.

  “Aria, I don’t know who killed your daughter. Not certainly. The only others present at the time were Paul Grayson and the Cerberus team who had come to seize him. You assumed Grayson killed your daughter, and that gave the Illusive Man a chance to play you for a fool.”

  Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a silent snarl.

  “By the time my network turned up even a scrap of evidence to point to Cerberus as being behind Liselle’s murder, you had already made your alliance with them,” I continued, giving her a cold stare. “If I had come to you with the truth, would you have believed a word of it?”

  She thought about that for a long moment, while my acolytes and I watched her closely and the crowd muttered and roared all around us.

  “No,” she said at last. “I knew you were the Illusive Man’s enemy. You would have had every motive to lie.”

  “I’m not in the habit of lying, even to my enemies,” I told her. “But you see the problem. Until you broke with Cerberus on your own initiative, I had no reason to believe you would listen. Even then, I didn’t have any proof. Just a very strong suspicion, that Kai Leng slit your daughter’s throat, while she lay helpless under a tranquilizer.”

  She turned away, her jaw set with revulsion, her fingers like claws on the arms of her chair.

  I glanced down at the arena. The two krogan stood back to back, shotguns blazing, mowing down images of Reaper troops. I couldn’t see Shepard at first, but then he flash-charged in from the side and explosively scattered a knot of holographic husks.

  “All right, I see your point,” Aria said at last. “I still don’t trust you, Liara T’Soni. You may not lie, but you use information like a weapon, doling it out or keeping it for yourself to suit your own advantage. I don’t want the Shadow Broker showing her face on Omega.”