Chapter 37 – The Curtain Rises
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Office of the Admiral of the Alliance Fleet
Arcturus Station
Themis
Arcturus System
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Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett silently contemplated the galactic map he had projected in the air above the conference table in the middle of his office. It displayed the position of his eight fleets, newly returned to Alliance space. He had disguised his true intentions with orders to refuel and undergo routine maintenance, and as a result all of the Alliance's fleets were back in Alliance space, where they could go to protect Alliance territory at a moment's notice. In the quiet of his office, he could concentrate and plan their next move.
He sipped coffee from the mug his only granddaughter had given him and watched the map with hawklike intensity. Hackett felt an almost paternal concern for each of his Fleet Commanding Officers, and for every man and woman serving on board those ships. Having been appointed Admiral of the Fleet and handing over command of Fifth Fleet to Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard, he had to think bigger now.
He still took orders from the Admiralty Board, the Secretary of Defense, the Prime Minister and from the Citadel Councillor, but Hackett was the highest ranking military officer in humanity's navy. A heavy burden and responsibility weighed on his shoulders.
In order to protect the servicemen and women under his command as best he could, Hackett had chosen to believe Commander Shepard's warning about the Reapers. He did this for three reasons. Firstly, Shepard had an outstanding military record. He didn't earn his Star of Terra for nothing. Secondly, Shepard had been right about the rogue Spectre Saren when everyone else didn't believe him. And third, the mighty Alliance fleets had been unable to safeguard the outer colonies from attack. Shepard stopped the Collectors within a matter of months, and proved beyond doubt that he had repudiated Cerberus when he killed Ransom Foley, the Illusive Man's strongest ally back on Earth.
But if Shepard was right, then humanity would soon be plunged into a terrible war, the likes of which it had never encountered before. Humanity was no stranger to war. Humans had visited horrific slaughter upon one another in their less enlightened past. Even their first discovery of alien life had led to a war. Humans were aggressive, quick to adapt, and extremely innovative, particularly when it came to technology.
But Hackett believed that humanity, and for that matter the rest of the Citadel races, were handicapped when the time came to face their new enemy. Throughout galactic history, wars had always been fought between two sides who could negotiate and understand each other. Even the krogans wanted goals that were understandable, such as more territory and planets to expand their control. Even the rachni could communicate.
But the Reapers were unknowable. The Reapers were truly alien even in a community where one species lived as long as a human civilisation, another floated in mid-air and used bioluminescence to communicate, and yet another accepted eternal war as a way of life. The Reapers had no need for things like supplies, or a communications network, or rest. The Reapers could not be negotiated with, they could not be reasoned with, they could not be analysed to discover a motive or a weakness upon which their enemies could act.
The Reapers simply wanted to destroy everything and remake the galaxy in their image. They did not accept nor understand the concept of surrender. A war with the Reapers would mean a war without end, a war that would not cease until every man, woman and child in the galaxy was either dead or their slave. You couldn't even betray your friends and go over to their side if you wanted to. The Reapers had re-written the laws and rules of war. Shepard had understood and grasped this better than anyone else alive, partly because he was exposed to the Prothean beacon and glimpsed their true nature, and partly because he was the only man to have fought a Reaper and lived.
That knowledge alone was enough to break a man. Instead it had energised Shepard. Instead of making him despair, it had made him furious. He refused to lie down in the path of their relentless advance, and Hackett took heart from it. If more people took Shepard's stance, they just might have a chance.
"Where are you..." he muttered to himself.
Hackett pored over the map again and took notes. As Fleet Admiral he had to oversee not only all eight fleets, but also their upkeep and supplies and staffing requirements. It was a challenge, a big step up from being the Commanding Officer of just one fleet. Hackett hoped he could handle the job. But he wouldn't have accepted it if he didn't think he could.
The sound of running footsteps made him look up even before his door was flung open. He had given strict orders not to be interrupted and he knew, deep in his heart, that the moment had finally arrived.
"Fleet Admiral!" It was his personal assistant. "Something's come up, the Secretary of Defense wants you in the War Room immediately."
Through long experience, Hackett had learned not to waste a second when every second counted. He hurried out of his room and through the corridors with his PA struggling to keep up, firing off questions along the way.
"What's the nature of the situation?"
"Long-range scanners have gone dark, sir."
"An attack?"
"We're not sure at the moment. It might be a malfunction."
"If it was a malfunction, SecDef wouldn't be calling me to the War Room. Has the Prime Minister been notified?"
"Not yet sir, Parliament is in session. He's taking questions in the House."
Hackett swore. Parliament in session at the worst possible time, right after a Cabinet meeting earlier in the day. The Alliance government and MPs were all gathered on Arcturus Station. Granted it was heavily defended, but Hackett didn't like taking chances.
The War Room was a hive of chaotic activity. Technicians and soldiers and junior ministers were running around, frantically trying to get a grip on the situation. Holographic maps blinked like stars everywhere. Hackett crossed the room and went up to the elevated platform where the Secretary of Defense, a huge, fierce, bearded man named Kyriakos Papadopoulous was bellowing orders.
"Get me more information, we cannot act until we know what we're dealing with!"
"Mister Secretary," greeted Hackett, saluting.
"Hackett, what the hell is going on?"
"What's the situation, sir?"
"Our outposts have gone dark, and so have some of the most outlying colonies. No communication whatsoever. We've ruled out any technical faults."
Hackett took a deep breath. "Sir, I believe this is an attack."
"The batarians?"
"No sir. The Reapers."
The SecDef looked furious. "Don't play games with me, Fleet Admiral!"
"Sir, I am being deadly serious," said Hackett. "I believe this is what Shepard warned us about. I believe this is the moment."
"The Reapers," whispered Kyriakos. "Hackett...how do we stop this?"
"The Second, Third and Fifth Fleets are stationed here, sir."
"You think they'll attack Arcturus?"
"No sir, I think they will use the Arcturus Relay to mount an attack on Earth."
"The homeworld? Why?"
"One reason, sir. Because Commander Shepard is there. He's the only one who's ever gone up against them and lived to tell the tale."
Kyriakos nodded grimly. He turned away from Hackett and roared an order to the entire War Room that everyone damn well heard.
"LISTEN UP PEOPLE! Send a message to the Commanding Officers of First Fleet at the Charon Relay and Fourth Fleet in Earth orbit immediately! There is going to be an imminent attack! This is not a drill!"
Hackett nodded. "Sir, with your permission I will take a shuttle to the flagship of Fifth Fleet and take command of Second, Third and Fifth to defend the Arcturus Station and Relay."
"Permission denied, Fleet Admiral! If there's going to be an attack, it's not safe out there."
"Mister Secretary, my place is out there. I need to do what I can to stop this attack."
"You're not going to listen to me even if I deny you permission again, are you?"
"Kyriakos," said Hackett, using the Secretary's first name. "I need to be on the frontlines."
"Goddamnit," muttered SecDef. "Go then, but do not take any unnecessary risks, do you hear me? That is an order. We're going to need you."
"Aye aye, sir."
Hackett saluted again, then turned and left the War Room. The Secretary of Defense was still barking rapid orders to his army of underlings.
"Warn the Admiralty Board on Earth. PHILLIP! Get over to Parliament and inform the Prime Minister right now! I don't care if he's speaking, this is an emergency!"
Hackett hurried to the nearest docking bay, ordering his PA to get him a shuttle to the SSV Orizaba. Along the way, he called Hannah Shepard on his personal communicator.
"Rear Admiral Shepard, this is Fleet Admiral Hackett."
"Steven, what's going on?" asked Hannah. She looked worried.
"It's time," replied Hackett.
"The Reapers?"
Hackett nodded silently. Hannah looked shocked, then her face settled into an expression of stern acceptance.
"Very well. I'll have the Orizaba standing by to receive your shuttle at once. I'll open up communications with Rashid and Nitesh."
"Thank you, Hannah. I'll see you in a few minutes."
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SSV Orizaba (Dreadnought, flagship of Fifth Fleet)
Arcturus Station
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Hackett went up to the bridge, moving so fast the assorted Navy personnel and marines didn't have time to recognise him and salute. The Orizaba had been his, once upon a time, and the bridge was just like how he remembered it.
"Fleet Admiral," greeted Hannah, a bit more formally this time in front of her crew. Hackett returned her salute and faced the two holographic screens which displayed the commanding officers of the other two fleets in orbit around Arcturus.
"Admiral Muhammad Rashid al-Maliki, Commanding Officer of the Second Fleet, reporting in Fleet Admiral," said a thin man with a neatly trimmed goatee.
"Admiral Nitesh Singh, Commanding Officer of the Third Fleet, reporting in Fleet Admiral," said Nitesh in his deep voice. Instead of a cap, he was wearing a turban in Alliance-standard blue in deference to his Sikh religion.
"Good to see you both," replied Hackett. Quickly and efficiently, he explained the situation and his suspicions of an incoming attack.
"Has Earth been warned?" asked Admiral Rashid.
"Yes."
"Stanislaw's the last line of defense," said Admiral Singh, referring to the Admiral in charge of the Fourth Fleet, stationed in orbit around Earth.
"We're the first," said Hackett. "Arcturus leads to Charon, where Admiral Lindholm has the First waiting. But I'd rather it not come to that. We will stop them here, ladies and gentlemen. The Reapers will go no further than this system."
"We'll do our best, sir."
Hackett gave orders for Second Fleet to mass themselves around the Arcturus Relay while the Third and Fifth Fleet took up positions alongside Arcturus.
"Keep communications open at all times," said Hannah Shepard in the background to her communications officer. "I want us to be able to receive orders from the Prime Minister or to send an emergency evac order if needed."
"Aye aye ma'am."
Everyone on the bridge worked a little faster. Tension was incredibly high, nerves stretched to breaking point. Part of it was fear of the unknown. Almost all of them had never faced a Reaper before. They had no idea what to expect. It reminded Hackett of ancient times when a commander would wait on the walls of a castle, fighting the mounting tension as the enemy slowly revealed themselves. Back then, as it was today, the key was to keep a cool head and to give the right orders.
Suddenly...there was a parting of the fog.
"Sir, ma'am, our scanners are picking up multiple incoming hostiles."
"How many?"
"Hundreds, ma'am. More are popping up every second."
"This is it," said Hackett. "Open up communications. Let me address the Fifth."
"Aye aye, sir."
Hackett thought about what he wanted to say, and decided to make it quick.
"Soldiers of the Fifth, this is Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett. We are about to engage in battle with the Reapers. They are strong, but we have three fleets ready and waiting to throw back their advance. The Parliament and Alliance government are on Arcturus. Our friends and colleagues and family are on Arcturus. We will not give them up without a fight. We will not give the Reapers an inch. Hackett out."
Hannah Shepard went over to stand beside him. "We've done all we could."
"We'll need to do more in a few minutes."
"Yes sir. Let me handle the Orizaba and the Fifth. You should oversee the entire battle."
"Acknowledged, Rear Admiral."
Hackett and Hannah Shepard gave orders for the dreadnoughts to charge up their main guns. When the first Reaper ships crossed the threshold of firing range, they would cut loose. Cruisers would guard the dreadnoughts from direct attack, while frigate 'wolfpacks' would hunt down and destroy individual ships. Swarms of fighters and drones, launched from carrier ships, would support them. Standard Alliance doctrine for a large-scale battle. They hoped it would be enough.
Hackett watched the hologram depicting Arcturus Station, the Arcturus Relay further away, and the positions of the three fleets. The first Reaper ships began to appear on the edge of their most powerful scanners, and Hackett quickly ordered the recon officer to call up a more detailed scan. He laid eyes on the first Reaper he'd seen since the Battle of the Citadel, a couple of years ago. Armoured all over in black, with sinister glowing red 'eyes' and grasping tendrils that had to extend for miles, Hackett knew from personal experience just how dangerous even once could be.
"My god," said Hackett. "That looks like a capital ship, similar to the size of Sovereign."
"You took him down, sir."
"There are far more than just one. Send word to Third for its dreadnought to target the Reaper capital ships."
"Aye aye sir."
Behind the capital ships came a group of smaller destroyer-class Reapers. They weren't as massive as the bigger Reapers, but there were more of them and they still looked deadly. Hackett tried to quell his growing worry. There were far more of them than he expected.
"Reaper capital ship within range, Rear Admiral."
"Fire," ordered Hannah calmly.
There was a faraway rumble from deep within the heart of the ship as the Orizaba charged up its main gun. A dreadnought's main weapon was almost never fired. At full strength, it could blow chunks off a moon. With the main gun an entire kilometre in length, capable of accelerating a twenty kilogram slug to 1.3% light speed every two seconds, it was the most destructive thing that humanity had ever built. The slug would impact with the force of two and half times the atomic bomb that wiped out Hiroshima, every two seconds.
Hackett, and everyone else on the bridge, held their breath as the dreadnought opened fire. A brilliant beam of energy arced through the cold reaches of space and hit the first Reaper. There was a tremendous flash. But as they watched the scans and examined the readouts...the Reaper kept coming.
"It's a hit ma'am, but it doesn't seem to be slowing down!"
"Keep firing!" ordered Hannah. Behind her, Hackett had his head bowed, seemingly lost in thought.
"Can we contact Admiral Singh? Both of our dreadnoughts should focus on one target."
"Third's got problems, sir, another wave of Reapers is headed straight for them! And we've got enemy destroyers closing in fast!"
Hannah Shepard snapped out quickfire orders, rapid as a machine gun. "Carriers, deploy all fighters and drones! Frigate squads, harry enemy ships and keep them away from the fleet! Cruisers are not to chase individual targets, but to remain in formation and fire en masse!"
"Aye aye, ma'am!" came the harried responses.
So far the Reapers had not struck back, but instead moved inexorably forward like some eldritch tidal wave. Now inevitably, they began to fire. The Reaper capital ship that the Orizaba had been hammering repeatedly almost insolently ignored the hits it was taking and fired its main gun, targeting a carrier ship.
There was a flash of light, and the entire carrier exploded. There wasn't even flaming wreckage left behind.
"Oh my God!"
"Which one was that?!"
"XO, who did we lose?" shouted Hannah.
"The SSV John Locke, ma'am, it's completely destroyed!"
"Order all carriers to take evasive maneuvers immediately, their shields won't stand up to an attack from a capital ship!" snapped Hannah. Hackett was watching the tactical display. Admiral Singh appeared to have pulled back his flagship the SSV Logan out of the Reapers' firing range. Instead of firing on the capital ships, the dreadnought was blasting at a destroyer closest to the Third. It didn't appear to be damaged, but neither was it advancing any further.
The Fifth weren't having much more luck. The Reaper capital ships killed everything they targeted. The destroyers were a little less powerful, but not by much. Even three-on-one, the Fifth's cruisers weren't troubling a single destroyer much. Only with four-on-one odds, plus added backup from frigates, fighters and drones, were the Fifth able to knock a few destroyers out of commission. But they were fast running out of ships. In just a few minutes, they were in danger of being overrun.
"Target the destroyers instead," Hackett suggested to Hannah Shepard, who immediately relayed the order to her XO. Even the dreadnought's main gun wasn't doing any noticeable harm to the Reaper capital ship. The Fifth were fighting with all their might and skill, but to Hackett's trained eye it seemed like the Reapers could have wiped them all out if they made a concerted effort. Instead they fought as individuals, without a clear goal in mind. He filed away that bit of information for future use, if he managed to get out of today's battle alive.
"Ma'am, most of the Reaper fleet are headed for Arcturus Station," reported the Orizaba's XO, fear in every word.
"Order all ships to go after them and try to slow them down," said Hannah. "Steven, we need to warn them!"
Hackett was about to order the communications officer to open up a vidcall to Arcturus Station when a transmission for him popped up instead. It was Prime Minister Amul Shastri, looking like a haunted man. From the looks of things he was in his office, alone.
"Fleet Admiral, is that you?"
"Hackett reporting, sir."
"You were right. You and Shepard were right all along. I should have listened to you."
Hackett didn't bother wasting time by agreeing. "Prime Minister, you need to order a full evacuation of Arcturus Station immediately. Fifth and Third Fleets will not be able to stop the Reapers' advance."
"We're trying, but the Reaper ships are targeting any shuttles that get off-station," said Shastri resignedly.
"It's a targeted attack. They want to take out our leadership and military command," Hackett said softly, rocked by the cunning of the Reapers.
"There isn't much time. We need to save whatever fleet strength we have left. If they're really heading for the relay, they're targeting Earth. We cannot lose the homeworld, Fleet Admiral. We cannot."
"Understood, sir. With your permission, the fleets will retreat."
"We will die, but Earth might have a fighting chance," said Shastri wearily. "Hackett, there is one last thing. If you get the chance, send word to Commander Shepard. He is to be reinstated into the Alliance military with immediate effect, and promoted one grade. It's the least we can do after the shit we've put him through."
"Yes sir. Sir? We will not forget your sacrifice."
"God give you strength, Fleet Admiral. Find a way to win."
"Aye aye, sir," said Hackett, knowing in his heart this would be the last time he would see the Prime Minister alive, and saluted. Shastri returned it, then cut the transmission.
"Give me an update, quick."
"The Second have taken tremendous damage, sir," said Hannah, her eyes flying over the scans and holographic maps. "They're at one-fifth strength, and falling fast. The Third are doing better, but not by much. Fifth is at two-thirds strength. The Reapers seem to be bypassing us and the Third and rushing towards the Arcturus Relay. Rashid's doing his best, but they're blasting his ships out of the way and making the jump."
"To Earth?"
"That's our best guess sir. Let's hope Ines is ready."
"Send a transmission to Rashid," said Hackett heavily to the communications officer. "I need to speak to him."
"Aye aye, sir."
A screen popped into existence in front of him. Admiral Muhammad Rashid al-Maliki, at just forty-six years old, was one of the youngest and most talented officers in the Alliance Navy. Urbane and dapper, fond of classical literature and theatre, he had been a good friend to Hackett over the years. Not very close, but close enough that they knew each other's children. And yet Hackett was about to pronounce his death sentence.
"Fleet Admiral," greeted Rashid with impressive calm. He sounded like he'd just bumped into Hackett at a garden party. His legendary self-possession even in the fires of battle had been part of the reason why he made flag rank so fast.
"Rashid, the Prime Minister has just ordered a full-scale retreat."
"What about Arcturus Station?"
"We need to save what we can."
Rashid nodded solemnly. "Understood. What do you need me to do?"
"Fifth and Third are currently en route to the Arcturus Relay. We need you to provide cover for us while we make the jump."
There was a moment of silence as the full meaning of Hackett's order sunk in. Hackett would forever remember that he saw not one ounce of fear or despair or anger in Rashid's expression, just a steely determination to get the job done.
"Then you shall have that cover. Insya'Allah, we will slow them down long enough."
"Make them pay, Admiral."
"Sir, if I could ask a favour. My family..."
"I'll tell them myself," said Hackett. "Never doubt that."
"Thank you, Steven. It has been my honour to serve you. SSV Elbrus out."
Hackett gripped the bulkhead. A couple of tears rolled down his face as he gave the orders for Third and Fifth to make the jump at full speed.
"Approaching Arcturus Relay in T-minus four minutes, sir," informed the XO. "Third Fleet already making the jump."
Hackett and Hannah watched the map as Second Fleet moved from their defensive positions near the Arcturus Relay. They could have turned away, but they didn't. They owed it to their colleague and friend who willingly gave up his life so that he could save what was left of the Alliance's military strength.
They saw the SSV Elbrus, an older Everest-class dreadnought begin to open fire on the Reaper ships. They saw the last few frigates and fighters chase away the destroyers that moved too close to the flagship, the final handful of carriers using their ship-based guns in desperation. If Hackett had any doubts that the Reapers were more than just advanced AIs, he had his answer when he saw them picking off the other ships one by one, prolonging the agony of the crew of the Elbrus who had to hear their comrades die all around them.
They were cruel. They were malicious. They were evil. And for that, they had to be stopped.
Finally, the Reapers turned their attention to the Elbrus. As the dreadnought kept firing, even at near point-blank range, a group of capital ships opened fire. One would have been enough. The six or so that hit the Elbrus completely disintegrated it in a matter of seconds.
Hackett kept watching, etching every second of the final stand of the Second Fleet in his brain, resolving to tell Rashid's wife and children that he died like a hero.
"Rashid," said Hannah softly. "He's gone."
"We need to get going too," said Hackett. "ETA to Arcturus Relay, XO?"
"Thirty seconds, Fleet Admiral."
"We need to regroup at the Citadel," said Hackett to Hannah Shepard.
"What about Earth?" she said, eyes wide in surprise.
"We need to save what we can," said Hackett again.
"Are we giving up on the homeworld sir?"
"Hannah, you've seen it for yourself. Three fleets couldn't slow the Reapers down. We cannot fight them on our own. We need the help of the other Citadel races."
"Sir, my son is on Earth!"
"I know that, Rear Admiral! And we need to help him! I've sent a message to Anderson to get him off-planet ASAP, and we need to be there when he needs us for the counterattack. Do you understand me?" said Hackett, his voice raised for the first time since he'd been called to the War Room.
"Sir...the First...Fourth Fleet. They're sitting ducks."
Hackett's face was like stone. "Admiral Lindholm and Rear Admiral Fabianski will do their duty, Rear Admiral. As we must."
Hannah bit off a retort and saluted so crisply it could have sliced a plank of wood in half. Hackett knew she only did that when she was extremely emotional. But she kept it under check.
"Yes sir. Charting course for the Citadel, sir."
"God help us all now," muttered Hackett, as Fifth Fleet hurtled towards the Arcturus Relay. Behind them, Arcturus Station lit up for a moment as a Reaper capital ship took aim, before exploding into nothingness.
x
Office of the Humanity Systems Alliance's Ambassador to the Citadel
The Citadel
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Ambassador Inara Serra had gotten up early and read through a few reports while choosing her outfit (an elaborate affair made out of flame-orange silk with yellow trim and a long train). She had breakfast with the volus ambassador, made what she thought was very satisfactory progress on a potential trade agreement regarding rare earths, and decided to return to her office before her afternoon meeting with an asari cultural delegation. Just another day since her move to the Citadel.
"Good afternoon Moira," said Inara to her personal assistant. "Could you send a transmission to Arcturus Station please?"
"Certainly, ma'am. Who would you like to speak to?"
"See if Lord Halifax is free. I've been meaning to call him ever since I started working here and haven't gotten round to it."
"Alright, we'll contact him directly."
Inara sat down at her desk and made a few notes from her appointment earlier before she forgot key details. It was a habit she'd picked up from Edward Henry Fitzherbert Wood, the eighty-ninth Earl of Halifax, her old boss at the Department of State. Halifax was an aristocratic and sometimes a little bit too high-nosed, but he was a genius at negotiation and through years of hard work had managed to make himself indispensable as the Alliance's Secretary of State. Inara had learned a lot just by working with him, and he must have seen something in her too because he appointed her his Undersecretary.
"Inara, how lovely to see you," said SecState, when his transmission got through. Wearing a two-piece suit of a fashion that had to be at least a century old, he nevertheless managed to look completely comfortable in it. He even had a pocket watch on a chain, a family heirloom as he was fond of explaining.
They were chatting amiably about work and nothing in particular when emergency alarms, as loud as a ship's foghorn, sounded in Arcturus.
"Edward, what is that?" asked Inara, shocked by the sudden interruption.
"I haven't the slightest idea," said Lord Halifax, rising from his chair. "They haven't scheduled a drill today, not to my knowledge. Forgive me my dear, but I'd better check this out."
Inara waited, perplexed, as he left the room. After about a minute, he was back in front of the screen. But Inara was shocked to the core at the change she saw in his face. Although old, long-faced and bald to begin with, Lord Halifax looked like he'd aged a century in the past sixty seconds. He looked like a man on the verge of screaming.
"Inara..."
"What is it? What's going on?" she said anxiously.
"The station is threatened. Prime Minister Shastri has made the announcement. The Fleets around Arcturus are under attack by the Reapers," said Lord Halifax. His voice was shaking, something Inara had never heard before.
"The Reapers? You need to get out of there now!"
"I'm afraid I cannot," said Lord Halifax a little more steadily, regaining a bit of his famous stiff upper lip. "According to the flight attendants any shuttles that make it off-station are immediately targeted for destruction by the Reapers."
"Edward..." said Inara, her voice trailing off as she realised she didn't know what to say to a man she had known all her professional life, a man who had given her the first real job she had in politics, and a man who had supported her through some pretty rough spots, in his final moments.
"Edward," she said at last. "We won't forget you. You've made all of our lives better."
The Secretary of State gave her a sad, resigned smile. "Ultimately, that is all any of us can hope for. Send word to the Councillor. Godspeed, my dear."
"I will," said Inara. Lord Halifax cut the transmission, sparing her from seeing him die before her eyes, unable to do anything to stop it.
"Arcturus," said one of her secretaries. "Are they all-?"
"They're all dead," said another staffer, his voice flat and cold. Someone else began to sob quietly.
Inara reached out and gently took their hands with both of hers. "Let us take a moment to pray for the friends we lost." She was a devout Buddhist, and believed that all life was endlessly reborn until an individual achieved the state of nirvana and freed themselves from the wheel of life. But she would miss the people she had worked with and argued with and come to know.
It worked, and her staff began to calm down somewhat. "What do we do now?" someone asked.
"We need to inform the Councillor," said Inara. "The Council needs to know what's going on."
Before Inara could leave her office, an urgent message popped up for her. It was Udina, summoning her to an emergency meeting of the Citadel Council at once.
"He's got the message," said her PA. Inara nodded. Raising her voice, she addressed the entire room.
"Everyone, if you could listen to me for a moment. We're going to have to do a lot of hard work in a very short amount of time, and this will not let up for the forseeable future. It will be tougher than anything we have ever known before, but millions of lives depend on us. We need to be at our best. We volunteered not to serve a country, or a continent, but all of humanity. People are going to need our help, and we are going to give it to them. I will not force you to stay on if you wish to leave this office, but I need you now more than ever."
Her assistants looked around. No one was moving. Inara smiled in gratitude.
"Thank you, everyone. I'll see you all in a few moments."
Flanked by two bodyguards, Inara took her private shuttle to the Citadel Presidium and the private Council chambers of the four most important and powerful individuals in the galaxy. The Presidium rose into the 'sky' like a blade, polished and gleaming. It was the seat and the heart of galactic power, the symbol of law and order in a chaotic sea of stars. The Citadel had survived for untold milennia, no one knew exactly where it came from or when it was built. But in a time of crisis like this one, everyone would look to the Citadel for guidance. Inara hoped fervently that they would have the wisdom to provide it.
After passing through numerous security checks, Inara was led to the Council chambers. The four councillors were already seated, accompanied by their various aides and hangers-on. Udina noticed Inara's entrance, and waved for her to sit down beside him. Inara settled down, drawing the train of her voluminous dress in around her.
"Inara," began Udina. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair and clothes rumpled. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. "I've just received an emergency transmission from both Fleet Admiral Hackett and Prime Minister Shastri. Arcturus is under attack."
"Yes, the Reapers," said Inara. "I was talking to the Secretary of State on vidcall when it happened. He...he wanted me to tell you sir."
"You saw Halifax...?" asked Udina, unable to speak the last word out loud, which was die.
"No, Councillor. He cut the transmission before the end."
"Goddamnit," swore Udina.
"Councillors!" called Councillor Tevos of the Asari Republics loudly. "Without further delay, let us begin this emergency session. Councillor Udina, you have the floor."
Udina got to his feet. "My fellow members of the Citadel Council. A while ago I received two urgent, emergency transmissions from Prime Minister Amul Shastri of the Alliance, and our Admiral of the Fleet Steven Hackett. They have confirmed an imminent invasion into Alliance space by the Reapers."
There were gasps of shock and dismay at Udina's words. Silently, he called up a video taken by the SSV Orizaba. The Reapers were spread out as far as the eye could see, like some malicious tidal wave, blasting Alliance ships to bits and heading towards Arcturus Station.
"As you can see, Councillors, this is not a hoax or drill of any kind. This is real."
"What happened to Arcturus Station?" asked Councillor Velarn, of the Salarian Union.
"We lost all contact with Arcturus a few minutes ago," replied Udina. "We have to assume that they were killed in the attack."
"What about your fleets, Councillor?" asked Councillor Sparatus, of the Turian Hierarchy.
"The Second, Third and Fifth Fleets were defending Arcturus Station. Fleet Admiral Hackett reports that they have sustained heavy damage, and were forced to retreat. They are currently on their way to the Citadel to regroup."
"Three Alliance fleets were overrun?" asked Councillor Tevos. She looked stunned.
"I am afraid so, Councillor. I am afraid that the warnings of Commander Shepard were not a wild delusion, as some believed. The Reapers are here."
"Are they headed for the Citadel?" asked Councillor Velarn urgently.
"No, Councillor. Admiral Hackett reported that the Reapers were headed towards the Arcturus Relay. We believe they are headed towards the Charon Relay in the Sol system."
"They are targeting Earth?"
"Yes."
To Inara's horror, the other Councillors betrayed a momentary flash of relief. Udina must have seen it too, as his next words were vibrating with emotion.
"Councillors, I am formally requesting that the Citadel rally the combined fleets and send a task force to Earth," he said.
"Councillor," began Tevos. "If what you have just said is true, we cannot stop the Reapers. Not at such short notice, not with the small standing fleet we have around the Citadel."
"The Reapers took down multiple ships when they attacked the Citadel two years ago," added Velarn. "And that was with one capital ship. From the report, there are hundreds of them now."
Only now you are willing to admit that Sovereign was a Reaper, thought Inara, but she kept it to herself.
Udina looked shell-shocked. "Councillors...we are asking for your help. Earth is in terrible danger! As a Citadel council race, humanity is entitled to mutual defense from the rest of you!"
"We cannot rush into a fight we have no hope of winning, Councillor," said Sparatus, as if a parent to a child.
You were the loudest voice against Shepard, thought Inara.
"The other Council races must secure their own borders and mobilise their own fleets. At the right time in the future, we will launch a counterattack."
"How many millions of us will die in the meantime, Sparatus?! How many billions?! Earth will fall!"
"The harsh truth is, Councillor, that while the Reapers focus their attention on Earth, the rest of us will have the time we need to gather our forces. We are not abandoning Earth. But we need time," said Councillor Tevos.
"Shepard warned you! You could have had that time, had you listened to him!"
"Control yourself, Councillor," rebuked Tevos sharply. "We are now fully aware of the situation, and it does not help to dwell on matters past. We must now work together to coordinate a feasible response. Earth's sacrifice will not be forgotten."
Udina looked like he wanted to rage some more, but Tevos had spoken in a tone that made it clear the meeting was over. People began to stream out of the room, some looked like their only intention was to call their families and warn them. Soon only the human delegation was left.
"The bastards. The goddamn bastards. I should have known! I should have known they couldn't be trusted! He was right!"
"Who, sir?" asked Inara, the first word she had spoken since she came into the room.
Udina looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. "Never mind. Ambassador, do you know why I called you here?"
"No, Councillor Udina. I didn't get a chance to say a word."
"You are here partly because I had a hunch that I needed someone else to witness that debacle of a meeting. Now we know that we have to stand on our own. But also something more urgent. Ambassador, with the destruction of Arcturus Station, you are the last representative of the Alliance government."
Inara was shocked. "Surely that can't be true!"
Udina nodded. "It is true. Shastri informed me that Parliament was in session, following a Cabinet meeting. No one survived. All of them were killed by the Reapers."
"But...the designated survivor...I thought..."
"The Secretary of Culture is on Earth at the moment, but you come first in the order of succession."
Inara's hand flew to her mouth. "My goodness," she whispered.
"In accordance to Alliance law, you are now the Prime Minister of the Alliance, Inara."
Inara's mind raced, but she knew Udina was right. The moment that the Reapers destroyed Arcturus, she had immediately become the Prime Minister. But there was something...off about Udina. He was looking at her like he was expecting something. Inara's instincts were screaming a warning. She had to choose her next words very carefully.
"If I am sir, then I will perform my responsibilities of the Prime Minister to the best of my ability."
"You will need to do more than that," said Udina. "Arcturus is gone, and with it, the Alliance government. If we are to have any hope of surviving, our response must come from here, the Citadel. I will need to work with you to oversee almost everything...but I expect your full cooperation."
"Are you saying that I will need to obey your orders, Councillor?" asked Inara slowly.
"That is exactly what I am saying."
"With all due respect Councillor," said Inara. "I did not ask for the job, but it has fallen to me and I will not shirk my duty. This does not mean I am an underling for you to order about. We need to work together, but it will be a partnership of equals."
"Inara, you can seriously expect to make a power play, not at a time like this!"
"Councillor Udina, as you have said yourself I am the Prime Minister of the Alliance, and I will not obey your every command unthinkingly. You have my full and willing cooperation, but do not make the mistake of thinking you can boss me about. We need to work together now more than ever to survive this crisis."
"I don't believe this!" yelled Udina. "Earth is in danger and all you can think about is making a grab for power!"
He didn't seem to want to say anything else to her, so Inara left the Council chambers. She got into her shuttle and made a beeline for her office.
"Don't stop for anything," she told her driver. "If we get flagged by C-Sec, I'll claim diplomatic immunity."
She hadn't liked forcing the issue, but something told Inara that she had done the right thing. The division of power between the Councillor and the Alliance Prime Minister was unclear even before the Reapers attacked, but she knew that she could not let herself be pushed around by Udina. She would do her job, and help him in any way if he needed it, but she was more than just Inara Serra now. She was the Prime Minister of the Alliance, and she had to uphold the traditions and responsibilities of the office. If she allowed herself to be treated as just another underling by Udina, their relationship would forever be tainted by that first sign of weakness.
Everyone stood up the moment Inara entered her office. "Madam Prime Minister," they greeted.
"One of Udina's aides sent word," said her PA, by way of explanation.
"Thank you, everyone," said Inara. "This is perhaps not the way I ever imagined becoming Prime Minister, but the reality is that I am the only member of the government left standing. There are a lot of things we need to do, and to do them quickly. Moira?"
"Yes ma'am?"
"Contact the Secretary of Culture immediately. I don't care how, just do it. I believe he's on Earth somewhere. Do it as fast as you can, tells him he needs to get off Earth as soon as possible and head to the Citadel."
"Er – yes ma'am. Can I ask why?"
"He happens to be the other member of the government left standing, and for better or worse he's the Deputy Prime Minister now. I need to talk to him about setting up a new Cabinet."
"At once, ma'am."
Inara looked around at the rest of her staff. A few years ago she had been an Undersecretary at the Alliance Department of State, attending largely inconsequential official functions with other dignitaries. A few months ago she had been informed by Prime Minister Shastri that he was nominating her to the position of Ambassador to the Citadel. A few weeks ago she had been invited by Fleet Admiral Hackett to join his little group of people who believed, against all odds, in Commander Shepard's warning. This morning she had woken up with little more to do than to speak to an asari cultural delegation. Right now, she was Prime Minister of the Alliance during the darkest period in humanity's history.
Later, when she was alone, she would grieve for all the people that she had lost, and for the crushing burden placed on her shoulders in the days to come. For now, she had a species to lead.
"Earth needs us, and we will not ignore her cry for help," said Inara, in a hard voice that would have surprised those who only saw the beautiful, elegant diplomat in her elaborate clothes. But her staff had grown to know her well, and knew that under the silk was true steel.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let's get to work."
x
Alliance Vancouver Base
Vancouver, Canada
UNAS
Earth
x
John Kennedy Shepard
Spectre
Ex-Staff Commander of the Alliance Marines
Something was different.
Garrus used to laugh at my 'gut instinct'. Probably because the bastard evolved from avians and never really had a proper gut in the first place, but he never really gave credence to my 'mammalian' sense for when something was in the air. As if I was going to take seriously the words of a guy whose ancestors had to swallow rocks to digest their food properly.
Tens of thousands of years of evolution had something to say about that, not to mention several additional years of gruelling, excruciating training in the Alliance Special Forces. I couldn't explain it to you if I had a pen and paper and a million years. But it was there all the same. People seemed to be moving faster. Other people were looking around more. Voices were raised. Tension was several degrees higher. Something was definitely different.
Instead of trying to find out exactly what it was, I stopped by my window and watched the little boy in the park outside play with his toy spaceship. He was wearing his usual baggy hoodie jacket and slightly-too-big jeans, and romped around like he hadn't a care in the world. I envied his ignorance.
The door alarm rang, alerting me that someone wished to open it. Deep down, I knew this was what I'd been waiting for.
"Come in."
James Vega walked in and saluted me. "Commander."
I stepped away from the window. "You know Lieutenant, you're not really supposed to call me that any more."
"Not supposed to salute you either. Sir," said Vega pointedly.
"What's up?"
"We gotta go. The Defence Committee wants to see you immediately."
"Sounds important," I said, tossing the datapad I had been reading on my bed. It was something about marine troop deployment in the colonies, and I hadn't been able to make head or tail of it. "Let's go."
The moment I stepped out of my room, the feeling intensified. A beehive of activity, all around us. Staffers and runners and guys with stripes on their shoulders rushing around, too intent on what they were doing to even slow down. Something was up.
"Why does the committee want to see me again?"
"Couldn't say. Just told me they wanted to see you right away."
The crowd in front of us parted somewhat, and I saw someone I hadn't seen in months walk up to me. Admiral Anderson, all decked out in his dress blues. His presence here on Earth meant that the Admiralty Board intended to start my trial soon. But why the Defence Committee? They hadn't had anything to do with me at all since I returned to Earth. I got the impression they'd rather stay out of politics and focus on the bigger picture. Which was fine, except they had shown no indication that they believed my account of the Reapers.
Was this my trial? Couldn't be, otherwise I'd be escorted by more soldiers than just Vega and there'd be every reporter on the face of the planet jockeying for space in the corridors. It had to be something else.
"Admiral Anderson," I greeted, shaking his outstretched hand.
"Admiral," said Vega with a salute. Anderson returned it, then turned to speak to me.
"You look good, Shepard. Maybe a little soft around the edges. How are you holding up since being relieved from duty?"
Anderson and I moved through the corridors like a pair of sharks navigating a crowded patch of sea, with Vega trailing behind.
"It's not so bad once you get used to the hot food and the soft beds," I joked.
"We'll soon put a stop to that," said Anderson.
"What's going on?" I asked. "Why is everyone in such a hurry?"
Anderson's tone grew serious. "Alliance Command received a priority message several hours ago from Fleet Admiral Hackett. He's mobilising the fleets stationed around Arcturus. Something big's headed our way."
"The Reapers?"
"We don't know," said Anderson. "Not for certain." Even at this moment he remained cautious, unwilling to commit himself until he had all the facts. I wasn't so burdened.
"What else could it be?"
"If I knew that..."
"If it is them, you know we're not ready. Not by a long shot."
"Tell that to the Defence Committee," said Anderson, continuing to walk to their chambers. "This might be the day when they open their eyes."
"Unless we're planning to talk the Reapers to death, the Committee deliberations are a waste of time," I said, passing by a gorgeous view of the Vancouver city skyline.
"They're just scared," explained Anderson. "None of them have seen what you seen. We've all read your reports, discussed your findings. But it's all just theory. You've been there, in the trenches. Fighting them. You know what we're up against."
"Is that why they grounded me? Took away my ship?" I asked sarcastically. Anderson stopped walking and gave me a pointed look.
"You know that's not true. The shit you've done, any other soldier in the Fleet would have been tried, court-martialled and shot. It's your knowledge of the Reapers that's kept that from happening."
"That and your good word?"
"Yes," said Anderson simply. "I trust you, Shepard. So do a lot of other people. Admiral Hackett and I have been working non-stop to convince the Committee to listen to you."
"I'm just a soldier, sir. I'm no politician."
"I don't need you to be either! I just need you to do whatever the hell it takes to help us stop those bastards," said Anderson, summing up his entire outlook on life in one succinct sentence.
We'd reached the lobby of the Committee chambers. A clerk looked up as we arrived.
"They're expecting you, Admiral," she said to Anderson.
"Good luck in there, sir," said Vega, as he stopped by the security check while the two of us were buzzed through.
I waved him goodbye, then turned around and had to stop myself from following Vega out of the place. Of all the people in the entire galaxy, I didn't expect Ashley Williams to be there in front of us. You know what they say about running into an ex-girlfriend in the most awkward of situations? It's nothing compared to running into her on the way to a meeting that might decide the fate of a planet.
Ash was wearing a nice blue suit and had let her hair grow out and fall loose to her shoulders. I felt all the old emotions rise up once again upon seeing her. I had loved her, centuries ago, and she had loved me. There was a lot of history between us, and not all of it had been bad. She looked good. Great, even. Not only more feminine, but more alert, like she was searching for something. I wondered what she was doing here on Earth.
"John?" she said, sounding nervous.
"Ashley?"
"Lieutenant-Commander," cut in Anderson. I was surprised. Ashley made LC? Jack had mentioned in one of her letters that she was thinking of resigning from the AIA and going back to the Marines, but she hadn't said anything about a promotion. Of course in my book, it was richly deserved.
"How did it go in there?" he asked. So, Ash had a meeting with the Committee too...
"I can never tell with them," she said. "I'm just waiting for orders now."
The clerk checked something off her list and gestured for us to go into the chambers. "Come on," said Anderson. I followed him, but I couldn't help looking back at Ash. She didn't say anything, but just nodded.
"You know the Commander?" asked someone behind me. Vega's voice.
Before I went in, the last thing I heard was Ashley's reply "I used to."
xxxx
The Defence Committee chambers were massive. A floor to ceiling window looked out onto the bay, flooding the room with the evening light. The Defence committee were gathered at a table, facing us. Anderson and I went up and stood in front of them. I felt like a bug in a spotlight. Every single person in the room was watching every move I made.
"Admiral Anderson. Spectre Shepard," greeted the Committee Chairman. I knew his name, Admiral Norman Brunwolf. He favoured me with a skeptical look that did nothing to instil me with confidence.
"What's the situation?" I asked immediately. Damn the protocol, I wanted to know exactly why I was here.
"We were hoping you could tell us," said the bald Admiral sitting beside him. Peter Thorne, said by many to be a genius at strategy. An assistant helpfully handed me a datapad.
"The reports coming in are unlike anything we've seen," said Admiral Rebecca Hastings, the third member of the Committee. "Whole colonies have gone dark. We've lost contact with everything beyond the Sol Relay since Fleet Admiral Hackett's priority transmission."
"Whatever this is," said Admiral Thorne, "It's incomprehensibly powerful."
"You brought me here to confirm what you and I both already know," I said, without looking at the datapad. "The Reapers are here."
There was a moment of shocked silence. I could hear a few gasps. Everything seem to hang frozen in the air for one impossibly long moment.
"Then," said Admiral Hastings at last. "How do we stop them?"
There it was. In the long years since I'd been away, in all the time since the Prothean Beacon burned its warning into my brain on that day at Eden Prime, the first official confirmation I've heard from a high-ranking Alliance officer that I was right, that I wasn't deranged or lying, that there was a greater enemy we should have been paying attention to all this while. It should have been a good moment for me, a moment of vindication and truth.
It wasn't.
Anderson and I exchanged a look. Imperceptibly, he had signalled that now was the time to let the Committee know everything that I had bottled up inside me all this time.
"Stop them? This isn't about strategy or tactics. This is about survival. The Reapers do not conform to any of the laws of war we have grown used to, or the playbook we've all learned from. They're more advanced than we are. More powerful, and more intelligent. They don't fear us, and they'll never take pity on us. They don't need a supply line or high morale or even a few hours of sleep. We cannot beat them using what we already know."
"But...there must be some way..." began Admiral Hastings, sounding shocked.
"If we're going to have any chance of surviving this, we have to stand together," I said. But before I could explain myself more, Admiral Thorne interrupted me.
"That's it?! That's our plan?"
I wanted to yell back that I wasn't done. That Earth hadn't a hope in hell doing this alone, that even if all thirteen billion of us spread out across the galaxy came together and worked with a single mind and a single purpose, it still wasn't enough. We needed the asari's knowledge and millenia of accumulated wisdom. We needed the salarian's ingenuity and technological wizardry. We needed the turians, dear God did we ever need the turians' discipline, their fighting spirit and their massive fleets. We needed the brutality of the krogans, the organisation of the volus, the stoicism of the elcor, the compassion of the hanar, the skill of the drell, hell, even the vorcha and the batarians and the rachni. We needed both sides of the quarian/geth conflict. We needed it all. Humanity could not go it alone. We had to have help from every corner of the galaxy, aid from people we once thought enemies. The Reapers were the greatest enemy any of us would ever face.
But I was cut off by a urgent, panic-stricken cry from one of the aides in the chamber, monitoring a signals station.
"Admirals, we've lost contact with Luna Base!"
"The moon?" said Anderson. He sounded like he'd been punched in the gut."They couldn't be that close already! Contact Admiral Lindholm of the First and Rear Admiral Fabianski of Fourth Fleet at once!"
"How did they get past our defenses?" said Admiral Hastings softly.
"Sir, UK headquarters in London has a visual!"
All of us watched the screen as a young man in the uniform of an Alliance marine yelled something made indecipherable by the radio static. From what I could see of the background, it didn't look good. There was rubble, and smoke. Suddenly an ear-piercing, gut-wrenching shriek rang out. There was the sound of an explosion, and the picture cut out, its signal lost.
Most of the room were wondering what the hell they'd just heard. I wasn't. I had heard it before, in my deepest, darkest nightmares. That was the cry of a Reaper.
The signal picked up again, but this time it wasn't from London. A dozen screens from both terrestrial and interplanetary news feeds, broadcasting the attack in all of its horror and fury. The Reapers were everywhere. They were blasting cities on every continent on Earth. Smoke rose from a million unchecked fires, screams were heard from a million throats as people tried to escape from the black armoured nightmares dropping out of the sky and setting buildings aflame. We stared, transfixed, at the horror show laid out before us.
They were here. This was it. No more waiting around, no more political mind games. The Reapers had invaded the homeworld.
"Why haven't we heard from Admiral Hackett?" Anderson asked me. I had no answer to give.
"What do we do?!" yelled Admiral Brunwolf. I tore myself away from the screen and marched closer to his desk. Now that question, I had an answer for.
"The only thing we can do. We fight. Or we die."
"We should get to the Normandy," said Anderson. My ship was docked in Vancouver? Anderson had to have pulled some huge strings to get it moved here.
Before I could reply a loud, low, ominous rumble made all of us look around warily. It hadn't seemed to come from anywhere in particular. It seemed to blare from the very air around us, or perhaps our own minds.
Slowly, bit by bit, the light was blocked out by a massive dark tentacle attached to a being older than our entire civilisation. A Reaper hung in the sky above Vancouver. There was the same ear-shattering shriek once more, and a red beam of destruction lanced out and blew up a skyscraper in the time it takes for someone to stand up.
"Oh my God," whispered Admiral Hastings.
In the time before the world around us exploded, I only had the chance to bellow a single word.
"MOVE!"