Deep Space: An Epic Sci-Fi Romance

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Deep Space: An Epic Sci-Fi Romance Page 48

by Joan Jett


  “What are you talking about?” rumbled Wrex. “That machine just put in more distance in the last five minutes than every other one like it will manage in their entire service lives put together. How many tanks can say they’ve gone over fifty thousand light-years on their own power?”

  Tali brightened. “You have a point.”

  A few husks and geth guarded the base of the Tower, just enough to deal with any of the Citadel’s survivors who might try a counter-attack. They failed to discourage us. We climbed into a lift and sent it rushing upward toward the Council’s inner sanctum.

  “The arms are closing,” said Garrus.

  He was right. As our lift climbed, we could see the spaces between the Citadel’s ward arms closing. Someone had brought the Citadel’s last line of defense to bear: its impenetrable hull.

  “Will it be in time?” asked Ash.

  “Doesn’t look like it,” said Shepard.

  Sovereign flew directly through the heart of the Citadel fleet, ignoring all opposition, and pushed between the ward arms. Its tentacles spread wide, seeming to reach for the Council Chambers. The closed ward arms would accomplish nothing but to seal all of us in with the Reaper.

  “Saren is probably closing the arms to keep the Citadel fleet from interfering with Sovereign,” I suggested.

  Just then the lift screeched to a halt, less than halfway up the Tower.

  “He’s locked down the elevators,” growled Shepard. “How’s everyone’s zero-gee rating? Suit up. We’re going outside.”

  “Outside the Tower?” Tali objected, her voice pitched much higher than usual.

  “There’s a mass-effect field imposing weightlessness on the exterior of the Tower, to prevent anything from falling off and striking the Presidium below us,” Shepard explained, locking his helmet into place. “Just make sure you keep your boots magnetized and in contact with the Tower’s surface at all times.”

  “Oh,” said Tali, suddenly much reassured. “That should be no problem, then. We quarians are good at zero-gee maneuvers.”

  “Just don’t look down,” I said quietly. Tali gave me a deadly glare through her faceplate.

  Shepard fired his assault rifle, shattering the viewport, and stepped forward. He seemed to swing through a ninety-degree angle as he stepped into the zero-gee zone and locked his boots to the outside of the Tower.

  As I followed, I felt a massive shock in the structure of the Tower. We all turned to face toward the Council Chambers.

  Sovereign had arrived, holding the Chambers in its tentacles.

  “Is that it? The Reaper wins?” said Ashley.

  “It might take Saren and Sovereign time to take control of the Citadel’s systems,” said Shepard. “We keep moving until something stops us.”

  He led us forward. Shepard, Ash, and Wrex took the lead, Tali and I followed, and Garrus took the rear.

  We had to move slowly and carefully. It might be death for any of us to lose contact with the Tower with both feet. Despite my teasing dig at Tali, I found myself having trouble with orientation. I kept seeing the ward arms and the Presidium ring as down, which meant I was clinging to the side of a tall tower using only my feet. After a few minutes of this, while Shepard called a brief halt to reconnoiter, I drew on what little zero-gee training I had and made an effort of will. Suddenly the side of the tower defined down. I seemed to be standing at the bottom of an immense well, the ward arms soaring into the remote distance above me. The Council Chambers and their attached Reaper became a fortress in the middle distance up ahead, an objective to which I could reasonably walk.

  My inner ears and my stomach settled down, just in time for the first wave of geth.

  Two squads of troopers attacked, reinforced by a pair of rocket-wielding platforms. We took cover and our warriors opened fire, as the enemy moved across the Tower’s surface toward us.

  I soon discovered that I could be horribly effective in this environment. I exerted a telekinetic pull on the first geth whose shields went down, snatching it away from the Tower. The moment it rose a short distance into the air, it left the Tower’s mass-effect field and centrifugal force took effect. It fell like a stone, from my new perspective flying through the air above and behind me, to smash into pieces somewhere in the Wards.

  Shepard spared me the smallest glance of encouragement. It was enough. I flexed my fingers and went into glass cannon mode.

  Yank. Yank. Geth went flying the moment their shields failed. Shepard and the others found the way clear to advance, across an exhaust plain and into a narrow access channel higher on the Tower’s side. These close quarters proved even better. A well-placed singularity could encompass several geth, all of which went flying into oblivion the moment I detonated a warp among them. Wrex got into the act too, his biotics not at my level but still very effective at throwing geth up into their doom.

  He became so engrossed in this game that the next surprise took him off guard.

  A pair of krogan leaped out of concealment and charged our front line. One of them, then the other, hurled his own telekinetic force at us.

  “Battlemasters!” shouted Shepard. “Watch your feet!”

  The warning came just a moment too late for Wrex. We concentrated our fire on the first krogan, killing him in mid-charge, but the second managed to reach our lines. Wrex tried to resist the charge, but the other battlemaster bent low and used a biotic-assisted lunge to drive him bodily off the floor. Tangled together, snarling and striking at each other, the two krogan rose into the danger zone and suddenly flew out of sight.

  “Wrex!” shouted Shepard.

  We heard a ferocious growl, ending in a grunt of supreme effort.

  “It’s all right. I’m all right, Shepard. Give me a minute.”

  “He’s a biotic,” I reminded everyone. “He can moderate his fall. Possibly even bring himself back inside the Tower’s safety zone.”

  “Got it,” said the krogan after a moment. “Oof. That was closer than I like. Another few meters and I would have been lumpy paste down in the Wards. Not even a krogan would walk away from that.”

  “You okay?” asked Shepard.

  “Fine, fine. I’ll catch up if I can. Get going!”

  We turned and pressed forward.

  We could see Sovereign very clearly now, looming enormous ahead of us. It seemed incredible that the Reaper couldn’t see us or strike back, but it took no direct action. We guessed that it was directing the geth and krogan mercenaries toward us, but we had no way to tell for certain.

  At one point a geth dropship stopped us cold. It must have shadowed Sovereign inside the Citadel; now it hovered close to the Tower, dropping what seemed like an unlimited number of geth platforms onto the exhaust plain before us. Each of them immediately found cover, keeping us pinned down under a hail of gunfire. As soon as we dealt with one platform, another deployed to take its place.

  “Shepard, look over there,” said Tali, pointing across the open plain toward a pair of short pylons, about ten and thirty meters away.

  “Point defense turrets,” said Shepard. “Those will get rid of that dropship, if we can get them turned on. Good catch. Garrus, Tali, come with me. Ash, Liara, stay here and keep the geth busy.”

  “Hopefully not too busy,” I muttered to myself, and hurled a biotic warp across the open ground.

  Shepard dashed across the plain to the first turret, where the three of them crouched behind cover and worked on the controls. Ash and I could hear them conferring over our helmet radios, but we were too busy with the geth to pay much attention. Only when the turret came alive did we notice: the motors whined, then the main gun began to fire with a repeated crash.

  Shepard’s team sprinted across the plain to the other turret. Soon enough it too was firing at the dropship. All of us could concentrate fire on the platforms already landed on the Tower, no longer being replaced as quickly as we could destroy them.

  Finally the dropship had enough. It turned in midair, began to soar away
. . . and then exploded.

  Right over Shepard’s position.

  I heard a high-pitched scream in my helmet, abruptly cut off, and my heart leaped in terror. “Shepard?”

  “I’m okay,” came his voice, “but Tali isn’t.”

  “Oh Goddess.” I ran, leaving Ashley to destroy the last two geth.

  I found them gathered around a small form huddled in shadows on the Tower’s side, Shepard applying first aid while Garrus watched helplessly. I threw myself to my knees beside the little quarian, calling up my omni-tool to interface with her suit’s electronics.

  “Massive bruising, several broken bones, lacerations,” I told them. “The medi-gel can hold her blood loss in check, but she’s going to need medical attention in a clean room very soon.”

  “No chance of that,” said Shepard grimly. “We have to keep moving.”

  “Shepard, she may die if we just leave her here.”

  “I know that, damn it. There are billions of lives depending on us.”

  “I’ll stay with her,” said Garrus.

  Shepard glanced at him sharply. “We’ll need you when we meet Saren.”

  The turian’s voice was light, but his eyes were implacable through his helmet faceplate. “You’ve got Liara and Ash. There isn’t anything the three of you can’t beat if you put your minds to it. I’ll take care of Tali. Maybe if Wrex makes it up this far we’ll be able to get her someplace safe.”

  Shepard frowned, but then he nodded. “All right. Be careful, Garrus.”

  “You bet. And . . .”

  “What?”

  “When you find Saren, you be sure and kick his ass all the way to Andromeda.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  Three of us went on to the final assault.

  We navigated one last narrow passage, then another exhaust plain. Geth turrets defended this one, firing rockets at our position while the mobile platforms tried to move up on us. At Shepard’s order we didn’t even try to deal with the turrets. Instead we destroyed the mobile platforms, then watched the turrets and raced forward during the pauses in their firing cycle. With some care we could move to the left, around the side of the Tower and into a final passage. Minutes later we found an access hatch that admitted us to the Council Chambers themselves.

  I looked up one final time, to see Sovereign looming above us, almost close enough to touch. Then I ducked down into the hatchway, following Shepard and Ash.

  A narrow passage, another access hatch, and we emerged inside the Council Chambers. Shepard led us up the long staircases, the ones designed to impress visitors with the Council’s authority and power. We found geth, not many. We destroyed them.

  The Petitioner’s Stage was fully extended, as if someone had come before the absent Council. A tall, bulky figure stood there, operating a holographic control panel I had never seen before in that place.

  Saren.

  We ran forward, to the near end of the ramp, weapons drawn.

  The renegade turian had vanished.

  Then we heard a low rumble. Saren appeared once more, riding the geth flying platform we had seen on Virmire. In that momentary glimpse, I could see he had changed. His eyes had a brilliant blue glow, as if they had been replaced by machinery. The same glow shone from inside his mouth, inside the crevices of his armor. Strange devices clung to the back of his neck, his chest and upper arms. He had become one with the Reaper’s technology.

  Saren hurled a high-explosive grenade to land unerringly in our midst. Reflexes took over and we dove for cover. I emitted a small scream as the force of the blast tumbled me in mid-dive. Once I stopped rolling, I realized I wasn’t seriously hurt.

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it in time, Shepard.”

  “In time for what?”

  “The final confrontation. Ever since Virmire, I think we both expected it would end like this.” Saren’s voice sounded thick with satisfaction. “You’ve lost, do you know that? In a few minutes, Sovereign will have full control of all the Citadel’s systems. The relay will open. The Reapers will return.”

  “Don’t count us out yet, Saren. We’ve still got a few tricks up our sleeves.”

  “I will admit, I underestimated you. You’ve pursued me with cunning and tenacity. You survived our encounter on Virmire. You’re a credit to the Spectres after all, but you are still not my match. I’ve changed. Improved. Sovereign has . . . upgraded me.”

  “You let Sovereign implant you? Are you insane?”

  “I suppose I should thank you, Shepard. After Virmire I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. About Sovereign manipulating me. About indoctrination. The doubts began to eat away at me. Sovereign sensed my hesitation. I was implanted to strengthen my resolve. Now my doubts are gone. I believe in Sovereign completely. I understand that the Reapers need organics. Join us, and Sovereign will find a place for you too.”

  “Sovereign is controlling you through your implants. You would never believe anything like that if you were in your right mind. Can’t you see that?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Shepard. The relationship is symbiotic. Organic and machine intertwined, a union of flesh and steel. The strengths of both, the weaknesses of neither.” Saren stood proudly, his arms spread wide. “I am a vision of the future, Shepard. I represent the ultimate destiny of all organic life. It can be your destiny too. Join Sovereign and experience a true rebirth!”

  “Saren, you’re spouting ideological bullshit. That doesn’t have to be anyone’s destiny. Not even yours. Sovereign hasn’t won yet. I can still stop it from taking control of the station. Step aside and the invasion will never happen!”

  “We can’t stop it! Not forever. You saw the visions. You saw what happened to the Protheans. The Reapers are too powerful.” Saren’s voice rose to a horrible rasping shout. “Nothing and no one can stand against them!”

  Shepard turned, half leaning out of his cover to stare at Saren directly. “You’re wrong. We can stop them, if you will just take a stand and fight them!”

  Saren hesitated. “Maybe . . . maybe you’re right. Maybe there is still a chance for . . .” He broke off, crouching, his hands at the sides of his head, grunting as if in horrible pain. “Grr . . .”

  Shepard stood up, his weapon forgotten at his side, to stare at Saren in appeal. “Fight it, Saren. Remember who and what you are. A turian. A soldier. An officer. A Spectre, sworn to defend the galaxy. Sovereign can’t take any of that away from you unless you let it.”

  “Aah!” Saren twisted, almost falling to his knees. “The implants! Sovereign is too strong. I’m sorry. Even if you’re right . . . it’s too late for me.”

  “It’s not over yet. You can still redeem yourself!”

  Saren stood still, like a dreadful sculpture of himself, for several long seconds. Then he spoke again, his voice suddenly calm and at peace. “Goodbye, Shepard. Thank you.”

  Quick as a striking serpent, the turian’s right hand swept up, holding his sidearm . . . but not to point at us. The pistol found its mark under Saren’s own chin. It discharged. A gout of blood and brain tissue flew to the side, as the bullet blew out a great patch of Saren’s skull. The blue light went out of his eyes, his mouth, all the other places where Reaper technology had invaded his body. Like a toppling statue, he slowly leaned to one side and then fell off his platform, vanishing beneath the Petitioner’s Stage. The dome over the Council’s garden shattered under his weight.

  Shepard ran to the control panel Saren had been using, opening his omni-tool along the way. Ash and I followed. A few moments to upload Vigil’s file to the Citadel, and then he turned to us in triumph.

  “The file worked. I’ve got control of all the station’s systems, at least for the moment.”

  “Quick, open the ward arms,” I suggested. “Maybe the Citadel fleet can take Sovereign down before it regains control.”

  “Can you open a communications channel?” asked Ashley.

  Shepard worked with his omni-tool for a moment.
Then we heard an asari voice over the channel, chopped up by interference. “. . . the Destiny Ascension. The Council is on board. I repeat, the Council is on board.”

  Shepard cut in. “This is the Citadel, Destiny Ascension. What is your status? Can you run?”

  “Negative,” said the asari officer. The voice sounded familiar. I wondered if it was Matriarch Lidanya herself. “Main drives offline. Kinetic barriers are down forty percent and falling rapidly. We need immediate relief.”

  “Normandy to the Citadel,” came another voice, very familiar. Joker. “Please tell me that’s you, Commander.”

  Shepard grinned in grim delight. “I’m here, Joker.”

  “We caught that distress call, Commander. Normandy is here in the Andura sector with the entire Arcturus fleet, but we can’t activate the last relay to reach the Citadel. If you can unlock the relays from there, we can save the Destiny Ascension.”

  “That’s bullshit, Commander,” said Ashley. “You can’t bring in the Alliance until the ward arms are open and we can concentrate on Sovereign. Why throw away what might be our only shot at this, just to save the Council? It’s their own damn fault we’re in this mess.”

  “That’s true,” I said quietly.

  Ashley looked at me in disbelief.

  “It is the Council’s fault that Saren had this opportunity to use the Conduit,” I went on. “If they had listened to us even once, none of this would have happened . . . but as flawed as it may be, the Council is the only galactic government we have. Even if we defeat Sovereign, the Reapers may find some other way to return. Do you want them to find a shattered and divided galaxy when they arrive?”

  Ashley suddenly looked uncertain.

  Shepard caught my gaze for a moment, and then nodded. He tapped commands into his omni-tool and thus into the Citadel’s systems. “Opening the relays, Joker. Tell Admiral Hackett to come through now. We need to save the Destiny Ascension, no matter what the cost.”

  “I hope the Council appreciates what we’re about to sacrifice,” said Ashley quietly.

 

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