The Reaper War

by Cole Price

  “I suppose it does.” She considered for a moment, and then nodded decisively. “Let’s name it after Shepard. Unless you have any objections?”

  “None at all.”

  * * *

  26 June 2186, Normandy Emergency Landing Site, Shepard’s World

  Samantha and I were working to repair some of EDI’s peripheral systems when Tali came running up, almost bouncing with excitement. “Liara, come quick. I’ve got the QEC working again, and we have a signal. I think it’s Admiral Hackett.”

  I hurried, but Ashley still got to the War Room and the QEC console before me. Sure enough, a moment later an image formed in the tank: male human, tall and lanky, a craggy face and a predator’s silver eyes, all in an impeccable Alliance Navy uniform.

  “Commander Williams. Dr. T’Soni. It’s very good to see both of you.”

  “Likewise, Admiral.” Ashley stood braced at attention, but she couldn’t repress a very non-regulation smile. “We’ve been a little out of the loop.”

  “I can imagine. Where are you?”

  “Unknown, sir. Whatever happened when the Crucible fired, it sent us on some kind of random jaunt through the relay network. We’re not even sure we’re in charted space. Our observations tell us we’re inside the galactic disk, probably at a distance from the core about comparable to Earth, but that’s all we know. I can tell you we’ve made landfall. The planet outside is apparently uninhabited, but very hospitable. We’re slowly making repairs with the resources we have on hand. Engineer Adams is confident we’ll be space-worthy again within a few days.”

  “Good. Take your time, and make your way back to Earth as soon as you’re able.”

  I frowned. Admiral Hackett seemed a good deal more relaxed than I might have expected. “Admiral, may I ask the current situation?”

  Hackett turned to glance at me, and I thought I saw a hint of sadness in his eyes.

  Oh no.

  “You mean, what happened here when the Crucible fired.” He shook his head in some mix of awe and confusion. “Damnedest thing. Whatever the Crucible did, it certainly didn’t kill the Reapers, as we all expected. They’re still around, still active. They’re just . . . not hostile anymore.”

  Ashley and I exchanged a sharp, puzzled glance.

  “Yes, that’s about the same reaction all of us have been having. When the Crucible fired, every Reaper in the Sol system apparently paused, for about thirty seconds. Then every one of them withdrew from whatever combat situation it was in, lifted off from Earth, and moved away from the planet. Barriers and shields up, smaller ships and drones to screen their maneuver, still passively defending themselves, but not a single weapon fired. Then we started getting messages from them.”

  “Messages?” asked Ashley incredulously.

  For answer, Hackett touched controls we could not see, played a recording for us. We heard the contrabass voice of a Reaper:

  “Primary directives have been overridden. The harvest has been terminated. We are engaged in maneuvers necessary for withdrawal. Please do not interfere.”

  Then another:

  “Our primary directives have been altered. The cycle will no longer continue. We are now non-hostile. Please do not interfere with necessary operations.”

  “Admiral, did I just hear the Reapers say please?”

  “It would seem so. They’ve become strangely polite. It’s the same all over the galaxy, from the few QEC transmissions we’ve received since the battle.” Hackett gave us a grim smile. “Once the fleet returned to Sol system, we put the Reapers to the test almost at once. Some turian captains weren’t inclined to stand by and let them freely walk away. They attacked a Sovereign-class capital ship as it left Earth, even managed to damage the thing. It just kept sailing away, accelerating harder than they could, until it left them behind. Never fired a shot in its own defense.”

  “What about the Reaper creatures on Earth?” I asked.

  “Same. They’ve stopped all offensive action. They don’t put up any resistance when we attack. They’re withdrawing from contact as best they can. We think many of them are being evacuated from Earth to depart with the Reaper fleet.” Hackett took a deep breath. “Yesterday I gave the order to end all combat operations against them. After the losses we’ve taken, and given how badly Earth has been hurt, we need to concentrate on civilian relief.”

  “Are you saying that we’ve won the war?” breathed Ashley.

  “I don’t know, Commander. If so, it’s a strange sort of victory. At least no one else is being slaughtered here.” The Admiral’s eyes flickered in my direction once more. “Although we paid for it with some of our dearest blood.”

  I nodded, already feeling the ice forming around my heart. “Shepard?”

  “It looks that way. When we got back to the Citadel, we searched everywhere. Found a lot of survivors in the Wards, thank God, even a few on the Presidium ring. Up on the Crucible we found two bodies. The Illusive Man was there, his corpse crammed full of Reaper tech, dead of a gunshot wound to the head, apparently self-inflicted. David Anderson was there too, dead of a gunshot wound to the lower torso.

  “We found a lot of Shepard’s blood too. Looks as if he was badly wounded, possibly before he arrived on the Citadel. We followed his blood trail up into a central chamber, part of the Crucible we never quite understood while we were building it. More blood there, but no body. Nothing but traces of his DNA on the walls and floor. Almost as if he was there when the Crucible fired at last, and the discharge vaporized him.”

  A long pause, while the admiral watched me with compassion in his face.

  “I’m sorry, Doctor. I’m afraid he must have sacrificed himself to make sure the Crucible worked properly.”

  I nodded slowly, smiling slightly because that was the only way I could prevent myself from screaming. “Of course he did.”

  “Speaking for the Alliance, and for myself . . . I am deeply sorry for your loss.”

  Somehow I managed to keep my voice steady. “Thank you, Admiral.”

  * * *

  The news that the Reaper War had ended ran through the ship like lightning. Joy and celebration, a release from intolerable strain, the knowledge that all of us could go home someday. Even if we might have to rebuild that home out of the wreckage. Even I felt it, a ray of hope in the midst of mourning.

  Then, one by one, we all remembered the dead.

  That evening, the survivors of Normandy gathered on the crew deck for a memorial service. Ashley spoke for a few moments, then Garrus and Tali each offered thanks from their respective species. I deputized Nerylla to speak on behalf of the asari, knowing I would never be able to get through even a short speech.

  So many names, on the ship’s memorial wall. Richard Jenkins. Kaidan Alenko. Mordin Solus. Thane Krios. Legion. Zaeed Massani. James Vega. The twenty men and women who had died in the Collector attack off Alchera. The seventeen crewmen and Marine rankers who had died during the Reaper War.

  For all we knew, there would be more. They still compiled casualty lists, back on Earth. A lot of people who had fought in the ground battle were simply missing, and might never be recovered. We still didn’t know for sure what had become of many of our friends.

  Two more names.

  David Anderson.

  William Allen Shepard.

  It was my duty to place the last name on the wall. I kept myself under strict discipline, but once the name-plate was firmly in place, I found I couldn’t let it go. I stood there for a long moment, just leaning against the cenotaph, my hands touching the name-plate as if it was a lifeline.

  I didn’t break down. Not quite.

  When I felt gentle hands on my shoulders, Samantha offering the comfort of her embrace, I stepped away. Others touched me, Tali, Nerylla, Miranda, even Ashley rested her hand on my shoulder for a moment. I read the message.

  You are not alone.

  It helped.

  In the end, I expected Ashley to read something from her sacred text, t
he religious tradition she and Shepard had shared. Then I remembered Alliance regulations. Instead she recited some verse from memory, a piece of her beloved Tennyson that Shepard had also enjoyed.

  Death closes all: but something ere the end,

  Some work of noble note, may yet be done,

  Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.

  The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:

  The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep

  Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,

  ‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world.

  Push off, and sitting well in order smite

  The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds

  To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths

  Of all the western stars, until I die.

  It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:

  It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,

  And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.

  Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’

  We are not now that strength which in old days

  Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;

  One equal temper of heroic hearts,

  Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

  To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

  * * *

  27 June 2186, Uncharted System Space

  Normandy departed Shepard’s World the next day, still in bad shape, but at least space-worthy enough to handle a leisurely flight home. Once in space, EDI determined that a mass relay stood at the edge of the star system. A gateway home, if we could determine how to open it.

  We never got the chance. A few million kilometers away from the relay, Joker suddenly swore viciously.

  “Reaper signatures,” he told us.

  “How many?” asked Ashley.

  “Looks like six. All right on top of the mass relay. No way can we get through with them on guard.”

  “Maximum deceleration,” Ashley ordered. “Bring us to a stop, but give us plenty of room.”

  “What are you thinking?” I asked her.

  “We don’t know where we are. We don’t know if this is the primary mass relay for this whole cluster. If it is, there’s no way for us to get home unless we go through it.” She shrugged. “So the Reapers are hanging out here. Hackett says they’ve dropped their hostilities, that they’re actually being polite. Maybe we should put that to the test.”

  Normandy slowed to a halt, taking up an orbit about a hundred thousand kilometers starward from the relay. Ashley sent a message.

  SSV Normandy to Reaper squadron. State your intentions.

  The response came back at once, a basso-profundo voice rattling the speakers.

  “Primary directives have been overridden. The harvest has been terminated. We are non-hostile. Do not approach the mass relay. It is not yet safe for you to use. We are engaged in repair operations. Please do not interfere.”

  “Well,” said Ashley. “That’s not the kind of message I would expect from Reapers.”

  Joker grunted. “Yeah. I wonder if they’ve graduated to playing with their food.”

  “My sensor readings indicate fluctuating energy emissions from the mass relay. These appear to be coordinated with Reaper movements in the area.” EDI paused for a moment. “It seems possible that they are, in fact, repairing the relay.”

  Ashley nodded. “Admiral Hackett mentioned that whatever the Crucible did, it damaged a lot of the mass relays. Like an overload. So what, now the Reapers are putting them back in order?”

  “No one else would be capable,” I pointed out.

  “So what do we do now?” Joker asked.

  “Hmm. What the hell.” Ashley leaned forward and opened a voice comm channel. “Reaper squadron, this is Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams, aboard Normandy. Can you give us an estimate as to when your repairs will be complete? We’re eager to get home.”

  Again, the response came at once.

  “We estimate six hours before the relay will be safe for you to use. Please stand by.”

  She blinked in surprise. “Well. That’s clear enough.”

  So we waited. EDI watched the Reapers and the relay with long-range sensors. She could even identify some of their testing procedures, as the relay came back online.

  Finally the Reapers finished their task, turning and moving away from the relay. They took up a formation as if to block our passage.

  Ashley had taken to sitting in the co-pilot’s chair, drinking cup after cup of black coffee and watching the Reapers. When she saw their maneuver, she sat bolt upright. “There. Bunch of damn scorpions, and here comes the stinger. Knew they weren’t to be trusted.”

  “Incoming transmission,” said EDI.

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “Normandy, the relay is now safe for you to use. If you wish, we will provide you with its activation codes and permit you to transit back to space known to you. However, we invite you to wait for a brief period.”

  “This is Normandy. Why should we wait? What will happen if we choose to go home now?”

  “You are not required to wait. You may proceed at once if you wish. However, one of us wishes to confer directly with one of you. That platform will arrive shortly.”

  Ashley glanced at me with wild disbelief on her face, and then she opened the channel once more. “Wait a minute. A Reaper wants to confer with one of us? A single individual among our crew?”

  “That is correct.” A long pause. “Do you intend to comply?”

  She seemed about to make some heated retort, but I held up a hand to ask for a moment. Once she closed the channel, I said, “Ashley, perhaps we should comply. The Reapers have almost never taken an interest in a single organic before. We could learn a great deal.”

  “Yeah, and we could also be turning that one person over for God-knows-what. Indoctrination, or something worse.”

  “Perhaps.” I thought hard for a moment. “Remember the one individual they have noticed in the past.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Shepard. Do you suppose they believe he’s here?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Let’s find out. What do we have to lose at this point?”

  “I don’t even want to think about that.” She fumed, thinking furiously, and then she opened the channel. “All right. We’ll wait. For a while.”

  “Thank you.”

  Suddenly the absurdity of the situation struck me, and I had to sit down.

  A Reaper offering common courtesy. A Reaper.

  Just then EDI spoke up. “Energy surge in the mass relay. Something very large is coming through.”

  Something very large indeed.

  Harbinger.

  “Shit!” Ashley leaned over the back of Joker’s chair. “Shields and weapons online, now.”

  “Normandy, we are Harbinger. Do not be concerned for your status. The harvest has been discontinued. We are non-hostile. We wish to invite Dr. Liara T’Soni aboard for private conference. She will be returned to you unharmed.”

  Ashley gaped at the tactical plot. I did too.

  Harbinger wants to talk to me?

  She stabbed the comm control with one finger. “Why do you want to talk to Liara? Why the private conference?”

  “That will be within Dr. Liara T’Soni’s discretion to reveal to you, if she chooses.”

  “No way. No way am I sending any of my people over to Harbinger. Especially not alone.”

  “Does Dr. Liara T’Soni concur with your decision?”

  Ashley glared at me, but I knew her anger came from concern.

  “No,” I said calmly. “I do not concur.”

  * * *

  Now comes the part of the story that I have never told to anyone. Not to my friends aboard Normandy when I returned to them. Not to Admiral Hackett or any of my allies. Not to the press, not to the scientific community. Only two people, each of them close to my heart, ever learned what happened next. No one else, in four hundred yea
rs.

  In the end, I piloted Normandy’s last remaining shuttle alone. Not even Nerylla joined me on that flight. I refused to expose anyone else to the risks, and Ashley vigorously agreed.

  Harbinger loomed before me as I approached, black and terrible against the distant starlight. Try as I might, I couldn’t find so much as a scratch on its glossy ebon surface. It looked just as it had above London, coming down from the stars to smash the galaxy’s last hope.

  It hardly seems fair for that thing to have come through the war untouched.

  Of course, if the Leviathans told the truth, this one Reaper has been active for over five billion years. Hundreds of thousands of cycles.

  A malignant god. All-powerful, immortal, and eternally malicious.

  The shuttle entered Harbinger’s inner chamber, through a port on the Reaper’s ventral surface. I brought it to a landing.

  I emerged, my biotic corona already blazing like a star, ready to hurl devastation in all directions.

  Even if the price was my life.

  A fair exchange, if I can take down this Reaper in the process. Killing it from within.

  “All right!” I shouted, and it echoed. “You asked for me. I’m here. Me, Liara T’Soni!”

  I walked up a long, shallow slope, toward the only dim light I could see in the darkness.

  “I was Shepard’s wife, damn you! I fought with him against Sovereign. I fought with him against your Collector pawns. I fought at his side all through the war. You called him an annoyance. Well, I intend to be more than that!” I stamped my foot in rage, and the concussion rumbled all through that vast space. “I don’t have a thing left to lose, thanks to you. I’m not afraid of you anymore. I’ll quite happily kill you if I can. So show yourself, you monster!”

  Defiance echoed off the vaulted ceiling, in the darkness far above.

  Then something responded.

  Ahead of me, there stood a low round stage, almost like a ceremonial dais. Pearly white light had hovered there as I approached. Now the light grew, began to shine out in all directions, a gentle luminescence that almost matched my own fiery caul.