by Joan Jett
The admiral stopped, gave Shepard a steely glare with a side glance at me. “Your five minutes are about up. What do you propose?”
Shepard took a deep breath. “Admiral, the Reaper hypothesis may be of low probability right now, but that could change very quickly. If it turns out to be correct, then everything is at stake. We need to start thinking now about what to do in that case. We need a red team now, because if we wait for irrefutable evidence to appear, it might already be too late.”
Hackett nodded, satisfied. “Now that is what I hoped to hear from you, Commander. That much we can certainly do. I am hereby appointing you and any two other people you designate to a new red team. I’ll let you know who the team lead will be within forty-eight hours.”
Shepard stared at the Admiral for a moment, and then saluted, his face carefully blank. “Sir, I’ll want Dr. T’Soni to be on the red team as a civilian consultant.”
The admiral nodded. “Done. Now I’m triple-booked for the next hour. Good hunting, Commander.”
He and his staff hurried off, leaving the three of us standing.
Shepard looked at Pressley, who was smiling ruefully and shaking his head.
“Have I missed something?” I asked, rather plaintively.
“I just got played, from start to finish,” Shepard told me. “What I proposed is what he intended to do all along. He was testing me the whole time.”
“Testing you?”
He smiled ruefully. “Think it through, Liara. He already suspects there may be something to the Reaper hypothesis. He knows the Alliance as a whole isn’t ready to take the idea seriously, much less adjust its strategic thinking. To be honest, we don’t know enough about the threat to do much planning. We need to study the hypothesis, develop more evidence for it, figure out the size and shape of the threat.”
“I understand that. That’s why you wanted to set up a red team.” Shepard had explained the concept to me. A red team was a group of experts tasked to challenge current strategic and tactical doctrine, based on the viewpoint of a potential adversary.
“That’s right. But the admiral has a problem. He knows that the red team won’t succeed unless it has real experts on it. Most of the real experts are on my crew, but I have a reputation for being a loose cannon. I’ve been basing my decisions on a vision, delivered to me by faulty fifty-thousand-year-old technology. I’ve brought a bunch of non-humans onto my crew, giving them free access to one of the Alliance’s best ships. I’m chasing a rogue Spectre all over the galaxy. Going after Cerberus without orders. Telling admirals they should radically alter their preferred strategy.”
Suddenly I understood. “He needs you, but only if you’re rational.”
“He needed me to come to him and make a good argument. Now we’ve done that, and he knows the red team has some chance of success. He can gamble some resources on it.”
“Suddenly I’m not sure I would want to engage the admiral in a battle of wits.”
Shepard laughed and turned to lead us back to the Normandy. “You’re more than smart enough, Liara. You just need to learn to be devious as well.”
I smiled. “It doesn’t come naturally. Spending time with you humans seems to help.”
Chapter 26 : Dogs of War
24 April 2183, Rayingri Surface
We knew there would be trouble, the moment the Mako reached the top of the mountain.
Before the geth came, a few dozen human scavengers and prospectors occupied this region of Rayingri, all of them looking for a mineral strike that would make them rich. Many of them used a pre-fab habitat on top of this mountain as a home base.
Now the geth had killed all of them, turning the habitat into their own listening post. We found the habitat surrounded by dragon’s teeth, the horrible devices the geth used to turn organic victims into half-cybernetic husks. The devices were fully extended, and so thickly spaced that the Mako would never be able to reach the front entrance.
We had fought scattered geth patrols elsewhere while searching for human survivors. Now we saw no sign of them, as if they had abandoned the facility.
“It’s quiet, kemo sabe,” said Ashley obscurely. “Too quiet.”
“I agree,” said Shepard. “Eyes wide, everyone.”
Suited up against the unbreathable atmosphere, we emerged from the Mako and immediately had to hunch low against the press of the wind. The rogue planet Vahtz loomed overhead like a monstrous moon, its gravity hauling at Rayingri’s atmosphere and rocky surface. Storms of almost cyclonic power struck frequently at such times. So did earthquakes, a thought which didn’t please me given that we perched atop a low mountain.
We crossed the space between the Mako and the habitat’s entrance, trying not to touch or disturb the dragon’s teeth. I saw Ashley staring at one as she passed close, an expression of fierce hatred visible even through her helmet’s visor. I knew she had seen comrades impaled on similar devices during the battle for Eden Prime.
The airlock hatch opened easily. We passed through a staging room, down a long corridor and into the habitat’s central hall . . .
“Well, we found the husks,” remarked Garrus as he opened fire.
We used simple and well-practiced tactics. Shepard, Ashley, and Garrus stood shoulder-to-shoulder to form a perimeter, meeting the husks’ rush with withering fire from their assault rifles. Tali stood right behind, overloading the monsters’ internal electrical systems. Kaidan and I stayed in the rear, using biotic combinations to break up the charge, taking out two or three husks at a time with well-placed warp detonations.
This time the husks lacked the numbers to overrun us. We finished the fight without serious danger.
We looked around. Once this had been a human habitat, rough and functional, yet clearly a place where people might live and work. Now the geth had turned it into something alien and ugly. Their own equipment stood on all sides, steel-gray and bulky but with smooth lines, seemingly placed at random.
Shepard examined the surroundings uneasily. “Tali, Kaidan, see if you can find the critical components. We’ll want to download any intel we can find before we destroy this place.”
“Something is bothering you,” I suggested.
“This doesn’t feel right,” he agreed. “We saw geth out on the surface, but none guarding this location. Nothing but that odd arrangement of dragon’s teeth outside the door, and a few husks inside.”
“Shepard!” called Tali from the adjoining room.
We went to meet her there, Shepard calling Garrus and Ashley to follow.
“Report,” demanded Shepard.
Kaidan turned to us, frowning. “We went to download the contents of the geth data archive . . .”
“There isn’t one,” Tali interrupted.
“What?”
“There’s no data archive,” said the quarian. “All this equipment – transmitters, receivers, jammers – it’s all working on automatic. They’re not doing anything with the data. This may look like a listening post from a distance, but that’s not what it is.”
Shepard nodded. “That’s right. It’s a trap. Come on!”
Too late. An enormous explosion roared behind us, followed by the sound of rushing air as internal atmosphere hurled itself into equilibrium with the external environment. We abandoned the room we stood in, moving back down a corridor toward the central space where we had fought the husks. Suddenly Shepard stopped short, signaling frantically for all of us to seek cover.
The habitat had been torn open, and geth were pouring in from outside.
“How the hell did all these geth sneak up on us?” demanded Ashley, as she began to fire at the enemy.
“Some of this equipment must have been here to confuse the Normandy’s sensors,” said Tali. “The geth were probably waiting outside under cover the whole time.”
“Less talk, more boom-stick,” snapped Shepard.
It wasn’t a good situation. The geth had given us no opportunity to take up our favored positions. Shepa
rd and Ashley crouched in the front, but Garrus stood too far to the rear and couldn’t lay down an effective field of fire. Tali hid with me, sharing the same piece of very inadequate cover, but Kaidan stood somewhere behind both of us where we couldn’t easily see him. Too many geth charged our position. We couldn’t do more than slow their advance.
We did our best. For my part, I gave up almost immediately on trying to coordinate warp detonations with Tali and Kaidan. If I couldn’t see Kaidan’s control gestures, I couldn’t throw a warp fast enough to hit his target before it took cover. Instead I concentrated hard and placed biotic singularities where they would slow the enemy advance most effectively, giving the others time to wear down geth shields and score fatal hits.
These geth are behaving differently, I realized. Using cover, reacting to our use of biotics. Have they learned something?
Then a new geth appeared to the enemy’s rear, unlike any I had seen before. Almost four meters tall, colored a brilliant white, it carried a massive weapon, almost like a personal cannon. The other geth fought all the harder once it appeared, laying down a blazing field of fire and advancing relentlessly toward us.
Suddenly I understood what I was seeing. Geth functioned as networked intelligences, software rather than hardware. The more geth processes ran on a given hardware platform, the more intelligent that platform, and the more effectively it cooperated with other geth nearby. The large white geth likely had plenty of extra processing capacity as well as physical size and power. It was acting as a control center.
“Shepard . . .”
Too late. The white geth had seen a weak point in our position. It turned and fired a rocket from its hand weapon. Instead of expending itself uselessly against the bulky machine Shepard was using for cover, it veered at the last moment and impacted on the floor one meter to his right.
An explosion erupted. Shepard was hurled back by the concussion. I saw his shields flare and go down. He lay awkwardly and very still.
Someone screamed. Probably me. No one else had such a high-pitched voice. I made an effort of will and the noise stopped, but the rage I felt needed some outlet.
I clenched my fists (blue-white light blazing like a corona around me) and peeked over the barrier (always take cover first) Tali and I were hiding behind (no, Shepard, I don’t want to get my ass shot off). Six geth prepared for their final charge (they’re going to kill us). I shouted again (they’re going to kill Shepard) and hurled the most powerful biotic pull I had ever managed in my life.
Not at the geth. At the torn and broken ceiling over the geth.
Already weakened by geth breaching charges, the upper structure of the pre-fab habitat might have come down eventually in any case.
I encouraged it.
I vaguely heard Kaidan shouting for everyone to take cover, but I was too wrapped up in my moment of enthousiasmos. Then I heard a cracking detonation, almost musical and hideously loud, and a kiloton of metal and ceramic collapsed into the space occupied by the geth.
The concussion knocked me senseless for a few moments. When I came to my senses once again, I lay on the floor with an I-beam crossing mere centimeters above me. It had very nearly crushed me, but as it was I could wriggle and crawl out from under it instead.
I looked around. I saw none of the others.
“Shepard?”
There he lay, only three meters away, mercifully free of any fallen debris. My telekinetic coup had not killed him. Assuming, of course, that the geth had not done the job first.
I crawled over to him, touched the control pad on his omni-tool.
Life signs, minimal but present. Thank the Goddess.
A tearing, sliding sound. I looked up.
Several tons of debris shifted and crashed to one side. The white geth arose out of the wreck, battered and scuffed but still active, looming over us. It turned to bring its sidearm to bear.
I heard a crack and thought I was dead. That Shepard was dead.
Then the geth’s ocular exploded. It swayed, began to collapse toward us . . . and a bolt of biotic force took it in the chest and hurled it backward instead.
I turned my head. Kaidan stood ten meters away, just lowering his arm from making the control gesture that had saved our lives.
Above him, perched on top of a storage unit, Garrus stood with his sniper rifle. He lowered it, his raptor’s gaze falling benevolently on Shepard and me. “Liara, remind me never to get you pissed off,” came his flanging voice over the helmet radio.
I closed my eyes, lying half over Shepard’s body, and permitted the universe to go away for a while.
* * *
24 April 2183, Interstellar Space
Later, I sat by Shepard’s diagnostic bed and tried not to think about how terrible he looked.
“Charles, I have good news and bad news,” said Dr. Chakwas, reporting to Lieutenant Pressley a few steps away. Kaidan, Ashley, and Garrus all waited in the background.
“Good news first,” said the navigator.
“All right. The commander is going to be fine. Liara and Kaidan applied first aid, they were effective in stabilizing his condition, and he reached me in plenty of time.”
“Now the bad news.”
The doctor sighed. “His injuries are quite severe. Gunshot trauma, shrapnel wounds, concussion, several cracked ribs, and an incomplete fracture to one arm. He’s going to be here in the medical bay for several days, and on light duty for several days after that. Lieutenant, I believe you are in command of the Normandy until further notice.”
Pressley nodded reluctantly. “Thank you, Doctor. Take care of him.”
“You know I will, Charles.”
The navigator turned to me. “Dr. T’Soni, a word?”
Reluctantly I rose and followed him over to the others.
“I’d like to thank you, Doctor,” he began. “I’m told that you very likely saved the commander’s life, along with the entire landing party.”
I looked down, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. “I don’t see it that way. I lost control. I could have killed all of us.”
“That’s bullshit,” Ashley said harshly.
Startled, I looked up and caught her gaze, deep-brown eyes hot on mine.
“Liara, that was as nasty a situation as I’ve ever seen. Felt like Eden Prime all over again, with nowhere to retreat and no Shepard to rescue me this time. We needed a miracle right then or we were all dead. Sure, pulling all that crap down on our heads was a risky move, but sitting around waiting for something to happen would have been even worse. You made a snap decision and it worked.”
I looked around at the others, all of them soldiers: Kaidan, Garrus, and Pressley. All of them nodded soberly.
“Officer thinking,” agreed Pressley. “Make a decision right now when there’s no time to deliberate. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. That’s war.”
“All right,” I sighed. “Any battle we all get out of alive is a good battle.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Garrus softly.
“It leaves us having to decide what to do next,” said Pressley. “The Antietam isn’t due to report after its strike yet, but the Kalinga ran into a similar trap and barely got away with all hands. Someone on the geth side is getting dangerously clever.”
“Saren may be an evil bastard, but he isn’t stupid,” said Garrus. “He might have guessed that the Alliance would respond to a geth buildup in this cluster. He might even have guessed that Shepard would be in at the front. I am not happy with the way that super-geth seemed to know right where to shoot to take him out.”
“Could be coincidence,” objected Kaidan.
“Maybe. Shepard does have this annoying habit of leading from the front.”
“In any case, I expect we’ll have new orders as soon as Admiral Hackett has a chance to look over my report, and whatever he gets from the Antietam and the Kalinga. We may have another attack run to make. In that event I’ll want Lieutenant Alenko in charge of the ground team
.” Pressley looked around at all of us, his gaze lingering on Garrus. “I’ll also want all of you ready to go in.”
Garrus’s mandibles twitched. “That’s something of a surprise, Lieutenant.”
The navigator sighed, frowning down at his shoes for a moment. “Yeah. Look, I’ll admit I’m still not fond of non-humans as a general rule . . . but I’ve been made aware that I need to re-examine that attitude, and that starts with all of you on board now. The commander is a damn good judge of character, and he trusts all of you. I’ve seen each of you put your lives on the line for him several times over. It wouldn’t be right for me to refuse to respond to that.”
Garrus eased forward, slightly baring his razor-sharp teeth in something that could not possibly be mistaken for a smile. “Even for a turian?”
Pressley didn’t back down. “Especially for a turian,” he said softly.
“Huh,” observed Garrus, stepping back, folding his arms, and cocking his head to one side as he continued to watch Pressley. “You’re all right, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you. Now I think we had all better get some rest. When things start moving again they’re going to move fast.”
I tried to rest. It was difficult, lying on my cot knowing that Shepard was wounded and unconscious only a few meters away. Finally I came out and sat in a chair next to him, holding one unresponsive hand. That worked. I awoke hours later, still in the chair, still holding Shepard’s hand, but with a blanket draped over me. Disoriented, I looked around and saw Dr. Chakwas working quietly at her station, the only bright light in the room coming from her desk lamp. She caught my eye, smiled and nodded, and went back to her duties.
When does she sleep? I wondered.
By morning Normandy received new orders. Long-range probes had discovered another geth station near the center of the cluster, on a planet of the double giant star Vamshi. Data analysis confirmed that this geth facility was no sham. Heavily-encrypted communications flowed in and out of the place by the exabyte. Lieutenant Pressley planned his assault.