When the Shadows Fall
Chapter One
"It was brutal, sickening." Rendor Dren declared. "And I say that as a krogan, mind! It takes a lot to make a krogan puke, but some of my men did!"
"Nevertheless, the accusations are serious." Councillor Alenko replied. "We need to hear exactly what happened, as best you can tell us."
The scarred krogan officer looked uncomfortable. Not a guilty discomfort, Councillor Ashiara Galina noted, but the discomfort of revisiting memories that he didn't want.
"The drakh fought us for every inch of land." He said. "All of us were impressed at first, until we realised it wasn't courage or determination. They reminded me of Husks in the end. They just kept coming and coming, as if it was all they were made for, all they could do.
"I fought the rachni, even they knew enough to pull out and regroup when they were beaten. I know defence when I see it. The drakh weren't defending anything, it was all attack.
"We came on a settlement. A few farms, run mostly by mechs with Vis. There were no houses, just these blocks like we'd seen in the cities. Like barracks."
"All the drakh lived in barracks?" Councillor vas Normandy asked.
"The men did." Dren replied. "The women and kids lived in blocks. You could tell the difference because they had bigger windows and more communal areas.
"The place was crawling with drakh, and like usual they just charged out at us. But we were expecting that by then. They fought like hell, and they died. Those we didn't kill, killed themselves. A wounded drakh will hold a grenade until you get close to him, then let it off to take you with him. We learned to shoot every body we saw lying there, to make sure they were dead, before we got close.
"So we cleared them out, then went into the block, the barracks first, but it was empty apart from some booby-traps. We expected those too, but we still picked up some casualties.
"But when we went into the womens' block…." Dren shook himself. "I still don't like to think of it. The place was a butchers' shop, a slaughterhouse. There were bodies everywhere. All women and children, all dead. Shot, stabbed, strangled, beaten. Babies shot in their cribs, women shot in the back or with their throats slashed. Some of my men couldn't take it, they threw up, or ran for it. I don't blame them -they're soldiers, not murderers.
"Those of that could stick it went through the place. We found one kid and her mother hiding in a closet. The mother told us the men had killed all the others when they knew we were coming. They're both on Tuchanka now, with Urdnot Bakara -she's taking care of them. As for the rest, there were too many to bury. My men wanted to burn the place, but then a Spectre arrived with an oversight team, so we left it for them to deal with. She sent me a report, said she and her team had burned the place after their job was done."
"Mariarch Tulina?" Councillor Alenko turned to the complainant. "Do you wish to cross-examine?"
The short and slightly chubby asari nodded. "I do, Councillor.
"Major Rendor, is it not true to say that the only eye-witnesses to the killings are currently being held incommunicado on Tuchanka?"
"No, it isn't." Dren replied testily. "I told you, Urdnot Bakara is looking after them – like all krogan females, she knows a lot about traumatised women and how to help them. She says it wouldn't be good for the mother to be put through a lot of questions. You want to argue with Bakara? Feel free, but I don't rate your chances.
"You've got my report, and the Spectres'. What more do you need?"
"Something less biased." Tulina retorted. "What species was this Spectre?"
"Human, why?" Dren replied.
"The Council will note," Tulina said carefully, "that humans have a record of sympathising with the krogan. It was a human, Commander Shepard, the Great Warmonger himself, who was instrumental in relieving the krogan of the genophage, over the doubts of the asari and in the face of official protests from the Dalatrass of the Salarian Union.
"Given that history, is it likely that a human Spectre would not give krogan the benefit of every doubt? Especially since my sources tell me that the Spectre in question is one Commander Ivanova, who was trained by two other Spectres, both known associates of the Great Warmonger?"
"Mariarch Tulina," Ashiara was clearly angry, "if you continue to refer to the man who saved each and every one of us from the Reapers in such a disrespectful way, I will have you removed! You are entitled to your private opinions, but I may say that the other Matriarchs have noted your attitude and are displeased at your attempts to publicly blacken Commander Shepards' name. Exercise caution, Tulina, or the Matriarchs may choose to exclude you from our number!
"Now, do you wish to continue questioning the witness, or simply to carry on propagandising?"
"My apologies, Councillors." Tulina replied with a small smile. "Major, can you present me, here and now, with any evidence you yourself saw that proves the drakh males carried out this massacre, rather than your troops?"
"We found a drakh male corpse." Dren told her quietly. "His gun was still in his hand, the barrel in the hole he'd blown in the stomach of the woman who'd stabbed him through the eye with a kitchen knife as he was shooting her.
"We found another male body at the bottom of a stairwell. By the mess he was in, he must have fallen all five storeys. There were two female bodies there as well, on top of him. One had her arms round his neck, the other had hers round his legs. By the look of it, they'd both heaved him over the rail and gone with him!
"One last thing, Matriarch. If you think any living krogan would kill a child, any child, of any species, you know nothing about my people! We'll fight and kill men, and women if they fight us. But after a thousand years of the genophage, centuries of seeing the heaps of babies that never lived, no race in the Galaxy knows better than us how precious, how important, how fragile, children are!"
The last was spoken with a clear passion that left Tulina abashed. Her "No more questions." Was almost a whisper.
Dren was allowed to stand down. Other witnesses followed. An STG Colonel who almost choked on his evidence. A human Colonel who gave her account with a set, white, face and a voice that throbbed with anger. A hardened asari Commando who spoke in a clear, steady tone even as the tears rolled down her face. Each of them stood up firmly under Tulinas' cross-examination, so that when the Spectre, Commander Susan Ivanova, took the stand, the Matriarch was more than a little frustrated.
After giving her main report, which she did coolly and calmly, Ivanova was passed over to Tulina, who immediately asked:
"Do you not think it likely, Commander, that the drakh men killed their women and children in order to spare them the horrors they believed would be inflicted upon them by the invaders? After all, they were attacked ruthlessly and without warning by troops renowned for their ruthlessness!"
Ivanova replied in a steely tone of controlled rage: "We found numerous copies of the orders the drakh government sent to the troops. They orders were very clear -Kill the females and young, then fight to the death. Let there be no survivors unless there is victory. This is the order of the Masters.
"This wasn't husbands and fathers protecting wives and children. This was mass murder, pure and simple. Soldiers killing civilians instead of protecting them."
That was that, and Tulina declined to make any further statement. The Council deliberated for a few moments, then Councillor Vakarian announced:
"Having reviewed all available evidence, including forensic reports from oversight teams and accounts from eye-witnesses, we find the complaint brought by the Unity Movement to be without merit. It is the Councils' view that the virtual extinction of the drakh race was brought about by that races' own actions, under orders from an unknown third party.
"We will continue to prosecute enquiries regarding this third party as far as our authority permits.
"In the meantime, until and unless further concrete evidence is brought to light, we find no cause for action against any of the Council forces engaged in that conflict.
"Does anyone have anything further to say?"
"If it please the Council." Tulina said. "Please understand that the Unity Movement did not bring this complaint out of any hostility to the armed forces of any race. The complaint was brought to highlight the fact that each force operating in the drakh campaign conducted operations according to their own doctrine. Each force also has its own code of military justice, all of which differ on issues such as the nature of an offence and its gravity. This all led to a lack of transparency regarding the fate of drakh civilians, and necessitated us bringing this complaint in order to ensure that investigations had been thorough and impartial.
"The Movement wishes the record to show that, while the differing races continue to operate on varying sets of values, rather than a single common one, questions like this will continue to arise. Thank you."
Lorn'Reegar vas Tirimon was only the third quarian to become a Spectre. He was also one of the first generation of quarians born on Rannoch, who were named after the cities or communities they settled in after completing their Pilgrimage. All of which resulted in him being aware that a great many expectations rested on him, so he did his work thoroughly and as by-the-book as was possible for a Spectre.
Right now, he was looking over the ruins of a small settlement in the wetlands of a world called Neverland. An Alliance colony, as evidenced by the human who stood beside him, but the ruins he was looking at were salarian.
"How many casualties?" Lorn asked.
The human – Sheriff Paul Merrick – answered. "Five hundred and thirty-two, all told. Fortunately the incubator withstood the blasts better than the perpetrators expected. All the eggs survived intact, and have been shipped to the nearest salarian colony."
Lorn nodded. "That was almost the whole salarian population here?" He asked.
"More like two-thirds." Merrick allowed. "We have a couple hundred who are resident in town. Mostly traders or salarian government people."
"How are they reacting?" Lorn wanted to know.
"Shocked, stunned, like the rest of us." Merrick stated. "None of them believe any of us here are responsible."
"Right, so fill me in from the beginning. What was a salarian community doing on an Alliance colony?"
Merrick sighed. "There's a reason why we call this place Neverland. How old do you think I am?"
Lorn shrugged. "I'm no expert on humans, but I wouldn't put you at any more than fifty Standard. Why?"
"I'm actually one hundred thirty Standard. Now, human lifespan is around a hundred-fifty, so I should be looking a lot older, right? We've people on this colony who're close to two hundred years old and are only just beginning to show signs of real aging.
"There's something in the environment here that slows down the aging process radically. We thought it was healthy living or good genes until just before the Reaper War, when a salarian trader who'd settled here because they buy some of the crops we grow, celebrated his forty-fifth birthday! No salarian had ever lived that long before.
"That got the Union interested, so they sent some people here to try and find out what was going on and if they could duplicate it elsewhere.."
"Makes sense." Lorn agreed. "Salarians don't envy most races anything expect our longer lifespans. Were there any tensions between your people and the salarians?"
"No, why would there be?" Merrick asked.
"Most of them lived out here instead of in town." Lorn pointed out.
"Ah!" Merrick said. "I see what you're saying, but it wasn't like that. Salarians are amphibians, you know. They like the wetlands better than the plains. Also, this was meant to be a multi-generation project, and areas like this are the best place to raise salarian youngsters.
"Like I said, some of their people do live in town, and there is – was – a lot of to and fro between the communities."
"And you don't think any of your people here could have done this?" Lorn asked.
"I don't think so, but I'm not completely excluding it." Merrick answered slowly. "Unlike a lot of colonies, we don't have many ex-military here. We're very pastoral, and the original founders were committed pacifists, so people have the idea that old soldiers aren't wanted here. I don't even know if anyone here would know how to rig a bomb. I certainly wouldn't!"
Staring at the ruins would get them nowhere, Lorn decided, so they went back to town. On the way, he found out that 'Neverland' or 'Never-never-Land' was a place in human fiction where children never grew up. Not that that helped, but he could understand the attraction for the salarians.
The town, not much more than a market town, was called Michel Delving - another reference to human literature, but one that Lorn understood, having seen the vids of The Lord of the Rings while on Pilgrimage on Earth.
"So you think of yourselves as Hobbits?" He asked Merrick.
The Sheriff grinned. "No, but that was what the transport contractors who brought the first colonists here called us. They thought the idea of building a pastoral, agrarian, low-tech society was hilarious, and they called us 'the Hobbits'. We took it as a compliment."
"Here's the Sheriff-House! Apart from the spaceport and the Town Hall, this place has the most tech in the area!"
Lorn put on his mask as he went into the building. Quarian immune systems had strengthened over the years since the return to Rannoch, but were still no match for those of other species. Outside was fine, but confined spaces, close to other people, were still risky. A bug or virus that any other species could carry without noticing could make a quarian sick for a day or more.
The salarian waiting anxiously for them was a female -something which demonstrated the importance of this place to the Union. The salarian species had far fewer women than men, and was matriarchal. Salarian women rarely left Sur'Kesh – even their Councillor was male.
Another unusual thing was the obvious warmth with which she greeted Merrick. Salarians are not a demonstrative species, so the warm but obviously Platonic hug was a surprise.
"Lorn, this is Under-Dalatrass Miana Corbel." Merrick said. "Leader of the salarian community here. Miana, this is Major Lorn'Reegar vas Tirimon, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance."
The Under-Dalatrass looked the quarian up and down. "Reegar?" She asked. "As in Kal'Reegar?"
"My grandfather." Lorn was used to this. "I never knew him, I was born on Rannoch after the War."
"I'm sure he'd be very proud of you." Miana said sincerely. "Sorry to look surprised, I was expecting a turian or an asari."
Lorn shrugged. "Your call was urgent, and you specified that you didn't want a human or salarian Spectre - I can see why – and the only ones in the area that fitted your needs were me and a krogan. Gulnaz Throk recused himself because he felt the history between krogan and salarians might lead to an assumption of bias on his part. So you've got me.
"So tell me what happened?"
It was simple enough. In the small hours of the morning, two days earlier, the town had been woken by a series of shattering explosions originating in the wetlands. Every able-bodied person in town had set out at once toward the clouds of smoke and flame rising from the salarian settlement.
"We figured there'd been an accident of some sort." Merrick said. "Occasionally gasses build up under the water around there, and sometimes they ignite and cause flame-spouts. If one of them had started up under something volatile…"
"But we soon discovered that the destruction was too complete to be accidental." Miana continued. "Fortunately the incubator building was damaged, but not badly -we protect our eggs very carefully. The two staff in there where the only survivors, and you may question them later. All they could tell us is that the explosions were almost simultaneous.
"Our engineers were able to ascertain that the explosive devices were placed to cause maximum damage. They have recovered fragments, but we cannot identify them."
"You don't have any STG people here?" Lorn asked.
Miana shook her head. "The Dalatrass specifically ordered the STG to say away from Neverland." She told him. "We are aware that the organisation has an…ambiguous…reputation and this was strictly non-military research."
"I see. Why did you not live at the settlement, Under-Dalatrass?" Lorn enquired.
"This is an Alliance colony, Major." She replied. "These people are our hosts, and they have been helpful and welcoming. To sequester the entire salarian community in the research base would have been impolite. It would also be impractical. This town has direct access to a spaceport, and a good communications infrastructure. It is easier for me to keep in touch with Sur'Kesh from here, easier to purchase supplies from local merchants and farmers, and easier to liaise with local authorities.
"It is also a good place to contract human workers. We salarians are like you quarians, not noted for physical robustness. A human farming community is a good source of strong backs when they are needed. Also, though as a dextro you wouldn't know this, humans bake pastries that are to die for!"
Lorn did things in order. He questioned the two incubator attendants, who were as shocked and bemused as anyone else, and had little to add. Then he went to look at the bomb fragments that had been recovered.
All quarians have some engineering knowledge. After almost three hundred years of living on ships, it had become part of standard quarian education, and this had continued even after the return to Rannoch. Not that it made him an expert, it just meant he knew what to look for. What counted after that was the Spectre clearance which allowed him to access classified files over the extranet.
"The explosive devices were manufactured by Cerberus." He reported to Merrick and Miana.
"I thought Cerberus had been shut down?" Merrick said.
"They have." Lorn allowed. "The Illusive Man is believed dead and their entire structure was taken apart. The Alliance fleet pretty much trashed their HQ, Kronos Station, and Commander Shepard helped Aria T'Loak drive them out of Omega and the Terminus Systems.
"But it would be foolish to say that all traces of them are gone. Nobody ever knew how many people they had, and it's quite possible that numbers of them went to ground, changed their identities or dropped off the grid altogether. It's also more than possible that they had supply caches all over the place. Cerberus weaponry and armour still turns up on the black market – a lot of it unused. Anyone could have picked this stuff up on Omega or Ilium, or even Noveria."
It was at that point that Miana's omni-tool signalled. A brisk salarian voice simply said, "Check this extranet channel."
There was a viewer in Merrick's office, and the three clustered round to watch. The show was Hard Questions, a popular and very prestigious programme produced and anchored by respected investigative journalist Khalisah bint Sinan al-Jilani.
Khalisah was saying: "Following reports of the bombing of a salarian research station on the Alliance colony of Neverland, the following statement was broadcast on the extranet."
The picture cut to a human male -very tall and athletic, with close-cropped blond hair, a chiselled but hard face and icy blue eyes – standing in front of a war memorial at night.
"Citizens of the Galaxy, I am Hugo Schmidt, Commander of the Night Watch." He announced. "By now, you will have heard of the action we were forced to take on Neverland.
"The Night Watch was forced to take direct action to destroy a salarian Special Task Group base set up -with the connivance of the Council and the Alliance government – on a human colony. This base was claimed to be a civilian scientific endeavour looking into certain properties of the colonys' environment for medical reasons.
"This is a lie. The base was an STG laboratory devoted to developing a strain of the genophage which would be specific to humans. The Neverland colony, with its' low-tech economy and society, would be an ideal testing ground for them.
"Aliens are not our friends. All aliens should be removed from human space at once. Humanity must withdraw from the Galactic Council or we will be subjugated by the asari as all the other races have been.
"Remember, the Night Watch is among you. We will continue to seek out traitors among humanity and alien enemies, and we will deal with them.
"Vae victis."
The picture cut back to Kalisah, who spoke gravely: "Sources close to Alliance Security believe this Night Watch to be a surviving splinter group of the Cerberus organisation. However, the man calling himself Hugo Schmidt is unknown to any Alliance or colonial government. Investigations continue, and citizens are advised to remain vigilant.
"The Dalatrass of the Salarian Union has issued a statement refuting Schmidts' claims. Also, in a rare public announcement, the current Director of Special Tasks, the head of the STG, has also given a statement in support of the Dalatrass.
"Mr Schmidt, in the name of free speech and freedom of opinion, I will meet you any time, anywhere, in front of the camera and allow you the chance to prove or justify what you say. If you have the spine.
"I'm Kalisah bint Sinan al-Jilani, and this has been Hard Questions. Keep asking!"
After a moment, Lorn remarked. "I'm not sure if that's a surprise or not."
"It certainly bears out your findings here." Miana noted.
"Hard to believe that woman used to be the worst scandal-monger in the Galaxy." Merrick commented. "The Reaper War changed a lot of things."
"Is it me, or is it unusual for a Dalatrass to make flat statements like that in public?" Lorn asked.
"My sister is a pain in the cloaca," Miana answered, "but an honest one. One of the reasons she was chosen as Dalatrass was because most salarians are upset that every other species thinks we're devious. We are, but not all the time, and not about everything."
"Sheriff," Lorn said. "I noticed quite a large island a couple of klicks away from the salarian base. Does anyone live there?"
"No." Merrick said. "There's nothing we need on it, and we like to leave as much of the local environment alone as we can."
"I see." Lorn considered for a moment. "I think we need to take a look there. Do you have anybody who can handle a weapon?"
Merrick nodded. "We don't have much crime here, but we do have some dangerous local predators, so I have a group of local people I call on. Rifles and shotguns, nothing fancy."
"Get 'em together!" Lorn said. "And find a boat. We're going hunting!"
"It's a matter of practicalities." Lorn was telling Merrick as the boat glided across the lake. "If the terrorists are from off-world, they have to hole up somewhere. This is a small population and strangers get noticed. Also, it had to be close to the base, because salarians only sleep an hour a day, so opportunities are limited. The bombs could only be planted when everyone was asleep or off working. The main risk was the incubator attendants, but they watch the eggs."
"We should have posted look-outs, but we didn't think we needed them." This was Sarak, Miana's Security Attaché, and a former Salarian Marine. Apart from Lorn himself, he was the only one of the party wearing armour, though his weapons -a Venom shotgun and the lethal Scorpion pistol, were outdated by Salarian standards. Lorn himself was armed with a state-of-the art Wolf light assault rifle, a Phantom shotgun and an arc pistol. The rest of the hunting party, some ten including Merrick, carried a variety of shotguns -mostly old Katana and Scimitar models, but one krogan-designed Graal Spike Thrower – and rifles. All the rifles, Lorn noted, were the aging but highly-regarded M-96 Mattock -a weapon noted for accuracy and striking power, but not capable of automatic fire.
The night was, in some respects, ideal. The nearer moon had set, and the further one was a mere sliver at this time of the month. The sky was cloudless, and the dense local cluster provided reasonable starlight. But the island had heavy vegetation, which meant it could get pitch-back in there. Both quarians and salarians could see into the ultra-violet, so Lorn and Sarak would have few problems. However, only Merrick and a couple of the more dedicated human hunters had night-vision goggles, so the others might need guiding.
There was a splash as something swept up close to the boat, then moved off.
"What was that?" Lorn asked.
"Otter-lizard."" Merrick said. "Local predator. They run to about a half-metre long and are only interested in fish. Not dangerous."
"Useful, though." Said someone from the back of the boat. "Watch them, and you see where the fish are thickest."
"Yeah, then one of 'em will steal a fish clean off of your hook just before you land it!" Said another voice. "You'll see its head above the water, your fish in its mouth, it'll blink at you like it was saying 'thanks, pal', then take off!"
"Just collectin' a finders' fee." The first speaker responded, to general chuckling.
"Can it, people!" Merrick said. "We're getting close!"
In a lower voice, he told Lorn. "I think you're right, Major, there's something on that island that doesn't belong there. These goggles are infra-red, and I'm getting heat sources that are too intense and concentrated to be natural."
"Slow us down." Lorn said, and began scanning with his omni-tool. Finally, he pointed to a small inlet. "Take us in there." He said.
Once they were in among the reeds, Lorn spoke quietly, but so that everyone could hear him. "Listen, there's a sensor network all over this island. I've managed to hack part of it to make us a path to the centre, but you'll need to follow me in single file. Merrick, bring up the rear, and I want one other guy with goggles to stay in the middle of the line.
"Sarak, these guys must have a boat, either moored or beached on the far side of this island. I need you to take two men – one with goggles – and find it. As soon as the balloon goes up, put it out of commission and stay with it. Some of them might make a run for it and I need you to stop them."
"RoE?" Sarak asked.
"Take 'em alive if you can, but don't take risks to do it." Lorn said. "Lethal force is clear, Spectre authority.
"Ok, let's do this!"
The path Lorn had managed to clear without setting off an alert wasn't very wide, but the men he led were hunters, and knew how to be quiet and disciplined. The reed-like vegetation that covered the island was as tall as a turian, but didn't branch out at the top, so there was enough starlight for even those without visual enhancements to make their way with confidence.
Soon they began to see lights Artificial lights, set lower than the reeds so they wouldn't be seen from the shore. Shortly after that they came across a heap of rotting reeds, encircling a very basic camp, four tents, a comms console and an equipment bay. About a dozen men were moving about, mostly in armour. The armour was Cerberus pattern, Lorn noted, but recoloured black and with different badges. The men seemed to be carrying submachine guns and pistols, but nothing heavier.
He gathered his men round him. "They're relying on the sensors, so they haven't posted pickets." He whispered. "I want you all to take position in this zone, then close your eyes. After a few minutes, I'll hack their generator and put the lights out. When I give the order, you open your eyes. Their eyes will still be adjusting, it'll give us a few seconds. Riflemen, stay back and pick your targets. Those with shotguns, follow me."
The plan worked like a charm. In the first few seconds, the riflemen put down five Night Watch operatives. As the first shots sounded, Lorn heard the distinctive high-pitched click of the Scorpion pistol, followed by an explosion. Sarak had found and taken out the boat.
Then he was charging the camp with Merrick and two others behind him. Lorn killed two more Night Watch with accurate bursts of his Wolf rifle. The shotguns behind him dealt with three more. Two left. One already on his knees, hands behind his head.
The remaining terrorist fired a burst from his hornet SMG, killing a hunter. Then the weapon seemed to jam, as he flung it aside with a curse. Lorn had drawn his own shotgun – the range was too close for a rifle now -when he saw the terrorist aiming a pistol at Merrick.
Without thinking, Lorn jumped in front of the weapon. The human and the quarian fired at the same instant. Lorn thought he saw his man go down before something hit him in the chest like a charging krogan, flinging him backwards into Merricks' arms.
He hurt everywhere and could hardly breathe. He didn't feel Merrick lowering him gently.
"Lorn. Lorn! Are you OK?" Merrick asked, from improbably far away.
"Damned if I know." Lorn replied, as the lights went out.